WHAT MANY HANDS PAINT 9.7

Kkelea wiggled the toes of her injured paw gently. It still hurt, but less and less. Meanwhile, the humans went on with their fateful lives. Fleas and her had not talked again. She didn't know if he avoided her or if he just didn't count the time, because she saw him in small moments, always in conversation with someone, always leaving and coming back after a while. She didn't hear the talks, but she noticed that the people talking to him smiled. They took turns watching her while she was with them. She felt isolated in a dark corner, like a ghost watching life around her, but unable to interact with it.