kulupu wi wawa unu

Drannnng... Drannnnng... Drannng...

For what seemed like the hundredth time today, Rosemary tried to call the bureau. This time, however, she took a big inspiration, and didn't hang up. A voice started to talk from the phone speaker, a faint and ghostly voice.

"Hello. This is the Bureau of Lost and Found. How can we help you ?"
"Uhm.. Hello. I'm Rosemary."
"Hello, Rosemary. Have you lost something dear to you ?"
"Yes, I think. It's... it's a cat."
"Please tell me more."
"Right. Her name is... well, it doesn't really matter. She's a stray cat, about... one, one and a half years old."
"She's a stray, yeah. So, she isn't really my cat. She came to see me often, but I haven't seen her in a week. I'm somewhat worried."
"It's normal to be worried about this. We will do what we can to help you. Your case number is 17-846. Write it down, and don't forget it."
"Okay. Seventeen... Eight... Four Six."
"Next time you call, Simply say you want to consult case 17-846."
"Note that we will not call you if we find something. Please call regularly to inquire about this case." "Right. Thank you."
"Thank you for calling us. Goodbye, Ms Rosemary."

She hung up. She sat down on the couch, and made a big sigh. She wasn't used to calls like that. She wasn't used to much, really.

Scarlatine was the name she had given to the cat. She knew it was an illness. She found the word beautiful, full of rhythm and belligerence, yet still somewhat delicate. She found it fit the cat itself.

Scarlatine had come near, but never close by. The only time she would let Rosemary approach was when eating. Rosemary didn't mind. Her being able to approach at all was a sign that the cat trusted her. That was all she needed. She couldn't pet her yet, though, as Scarlatine would catch her hand and nibble it.

She didn't mind either.

>outremer bureau : 9-2