On a winter street

Warm, so warm against my freezing hands. This motionless ball of fur, my only warmth in this desolate world. Gently I stroke its head, ever so gently for the small reward of a mellow purr. Its once playful yellow eyes glinting with pain through closing eyelids. Cold, so cold against my no longer thawing hands. This lifeless ball of fur, just another cold in this lonely world.