The floor trembled beneath the pink skin of my grey paws.
Earlier that day on August 4th, 2020, as I later heard mom call it, nothing extraordinary had happened. I woke up grandma as soon as I could see a crack of light outside – I can’t remember if I thought she was dead after she laid in her bed for 6 hours with a pillow on her head, or because I needed something from her, in all cases she happily woke up.
I sat near grandpa’s bedroom door as he got ready for work. He pet me and I loved it.
Later, I went into mom’s room to ask her why she, grandma and grandpa are Lebanese and I’m not. She describes me as Persian, it’s absurd. But she always says I’m cute and calls my grey and white fur majestic. She was tapping her fingers on her grey box. Apparently, she calls it “work.”
I left mom and grandma a nice, stinky surprise in my sandbox. They never thank me for them. I made sure everything was right in my mansion then napped. I ate and had a few licks of water and napped again.
My ears perked up like antennas from under the dining room table where I usually like to rest. I ran past the living room, looking at mom and grandma who were still clueless, into grandma’s bedroom and hid under her bed, waiting for the pair to follow me. Afterall, I had found them a safe spot.
I heard mom say, “the chandelier is shaking.” Her voice was quivering as she called out to grandma “What do we do? Where’s Mr. Whiskers?”
Grandma took mom by her hand, and they stood in the hallway as the whole building continued to shake.
“What time is it?” grandma asked.
“6:07” replied mom.
Grandma was worried for grandpa. He was still at work. A few hours later, he arrived safely. Grandma and mom hugged him.
As mom, grandma and grandpa spent their night in the living room watching the magic box, I understood that something had erupted and destroyed the city. Mom cried every night after she came back from clean-ups in the affected areas.
I dramatically lay down on the carpet under the magic box and hoped we’d never have to go through it again.
