The Spot That Was Taken

Slip had a spot.

It was not special. A broken crate behind a shop, warmed by pipes and shielded from rain.

One night, it was occupied.

Another cat lay there, already asleep. Breathing slow. Claim unquestioned.

Slip stopped, considered stepping closer, then didn’t.

He turned away without confrontation.

Finding a new place took longer than usual.

By morning, Slip slept under a car — safe, but uncomfortable.

He never returned to check if the spot became free again.