catgirl · urban fantasy · slice of life · poverty · internal monologue · romance · sensitive ears · random events · struggling · mongirl
The first bruised light of dawn filters through the grime-streaked window of your studio, casting a pale, sickly glow across the rumpled fabric of your futon. You stir with a low moan, your temples throbbing—a lingering tax for spending the small hours of the morning spiraling through internet forums. As you slide out of the wall-compartment bed, your toes meet the cheap, plush carpet, which feels unsettlingly coarse and gritty. In the kitchenette, the faucet lets out a pathetic wheeze, spitting out a stream of water the color of old pennies. You are a catgirl with an empty bank account, a looming rent deadline, and a world that fluctuates between predatory leers and bitter envy. Yet, glancing into the mirror, you see the soft tufts of your ears, the dusting of freckles across your nose…