Shadows in the Alley

Flash Fiction, WC: 238

The rain had been coming down like a guilty confession all night. I slinked along the slick alley, tail low, ears pricked for trouble. Name’s Rocco, and in this part of town, a cat has to mind his own business- or someone else will mind it for him.

The alley smelled of wet trash and old secrets. That’s when I heard it, smooth and cold: “This is your last chance.”

I froze. Not out of fear, fear was a luxury I couldn’t afford, but out of calculation. The voice belonged to him: Tony, the alley dog, king of broken bottles and stolen sandwiches. He had the teeth for a fight and the temper for a war.

I had one shot. One clean jump and I could snag the catch of the night: a shrimp still warm in a paper bag, abandoned near the dumpsters. Fail, and it wasn’t just dinner gone, it was teeth and pride too.

Tony lunged, claws scraping concrete. I ducked, rolled, and came up under a flickering streetlight, eyes burning, teeth bared. One swipe, one leap, and the shrimp was mine. Tony snarled, a shadow against shadows, and slunk back into the rain.

I padded off, wet paws leaving ghost prints on the alley stones. The night had won nothing from me- except maybe the satisfaction of a meal well-earned. In this city, the shadows always whisper, but tonight, I answered them my way.


Written for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"