The Glamour Cat stalked across the alleyway, one paw clutching an old fur coat, and the other holding onto a tattered pouch.
“Hey, baby.” A cat sneered from his perch in the doorway. “What’re you selling?”
“Whatever you need.” The silver cat purred, looking at him. “Just an ounce of ‘nip for an hour of pleasure.”
The orange tabby leapt off his perch and melted into the darkness. Grizabella waited patiently. She was always patient. Soon the tabby returned, this time carrying a small stuffed mouse dusted in a light powder.
“Will this do?” He asked her, throwing the toy at her feet. The queen sniffed it, before poking it with an unsheathed claw.
“An ounce, just like I said.” She said, satisfied. It always annoyed her when customers refused to pay, or tried to cheat her with some inexpensive dried plant. She had been in this business long enough to know, however, what was real and what was not.
“This way.” She grabbed her mouse and nodded tersely towards an abandoned corner of the road. The orange tabby followed her, looking around to make sure no one was watching.
About fifteen minutes later the cats exited the street, each walking separate directions. The silver queen sniffed a few cardboard boxes, before selecting one. She crept inside, before opening her small bag. Inside was a small amount of catnip. She shook her head. Business had been bad lately; many seemed afraid that she might be diseased after the recent scares. She probably was, but what did that matter? Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes as a wave of euphoria hit her. She relaxed, letting the catnip take her away from her sordid lifestyle and tattered rags.
Grizabella, the Glamour Cat.
The feline remembered the taunting words, her high broken temporarily. She had been called that by her ‘friends’, or those that were once her friends. They teased her, especially Jennyanydots, who had never quite gotten over the fact that Skimbleshanks had cheated on her with Grizabella. How was she supposed to know Jenny was with kittens? Skimble wasn’t that great of a lover, anyway. Now, Asparagus was a different story...
Grizabella shook her head. No sense on dwelling on the past. She was no longer a part of their tribe, anyway. She had left long ago, glad to be rid of them. Granted, her new life wasn’t much better than the one she had left, but she was free. Eventually, though, money ran short. Her minor excesses had become expensive, and she had to resort to the most menial jobs to survive. But nothing mattered anymore. It was too late to care. She couldn’t be bothered, and now all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep forever. Or perhaps she would get struck down by a car as she crossed the street. Perhaps that would be the better exit for ‘The Glamour Cat’. Die the way she had lived. No one would miss her; no one would care. She would just be another diseased whore, alcohol and drugs culminating in fatality, as was so common around these parts.
No! Wake up! Suicide isn’t the answer!
But it’s so easy...
NO!
Grizabella lay down wearily. She couldn’t be bothered. She could never be bothered. She inhaled the remnants of her pouch, closing her eyes to block out everything. If she tried hard enough, it would go away, just as it always did. And she would remain, stranded. And that was life. And it wouldn’t change. And she would always be Grizabella: The Glamour Cat.