CΩT (Part 2)

“That’s impossible, I ran it over!… or at least, I thought I did.”

“Seems fine to me. And there was no kind of collar or anything? It certainly doesn’t act feral. Let me check to see if he’s chipped.” He runs a grass-green plastic device, shaped like a hot glue gun but with an oval display through the bend between the handle and the sensor, between the cat’s shoulder blades. The cat’s back twitches but no sound comes from the instrument. ”No beep means no chip. We have an incredibly lucky stray on our hands. And what did you say your name was, again?”
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CΩT (Part 1)

A banged up truck is driving down a dark and winding road through the woods outside a small town, its headlights low and flickering. It is going around thirty five miles an hour, though a speed limit sign that it just passed says fifty. There are no other cars on the road. The driver is hunched over the wheel, long auburn hair hanging down around the steering wheel as she squints through her black-rimmed glasses at the road ahead. The radio is off, and the dashboard clear aside from a few candy wrappers and an old-looking cellphone. All of a sudden, a dark lump on the side of the road appears as she turns a bend. She yells and attempts to swerve but it’s too late. Two thumps later and both her right tires have passed over the shape. She stops, breathing hard and shaking, and cranks the gearshift into park.
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