Bella sits poised on the cool metal rail, her gaze thoughtful as she watches the sun’s low glimmer on the water. The gentle hush of the waves creates a peaceful rhythm, blending with the distant cries of the gulls. She lifts her head, ears twitching, and meows with surprising clarity.
"Hi Mike," she calls softly to the air, as if sending her greeting on the wind toward someone far away.
A lone figure stands wrapped in the glow of a balcony light—Mike, a bald man of sixty, dressed in a black sweat suit. His breath mists before him as he leans on the railing, watching the snow pile up over the car and asphalt. The cold bites at his cheeks, but his mind seems distant, searching for warmth in memory.
"Bella, are you out there somewhere?" he murmurs, his voice carried away by the wind.
Bella stretches languidly, glancing up as if she can hear Mike’s distant voice. She closes her eyes, purring softly to herself, and the sound seems almost like a song carried to the horizon. The loneliness is gentle, softened by hope.
"I can hear you, Mike. I always do," she whispers into the dusk.
Mike smiles faintly, remembering the warmth of coastal mornings, the playful antics of a tabby cat on a sunlit balcony. The contrast between now and then tugs at his heart. He speaks into the night, voice steady but wistful.
"Maybe, one day, we’ll share the same sunrise again," he says, as if casting a wish into the falling snow.
Bella[/@ch_1] and Mike look out into the distance, searching for the other in the twilight.]
The night deepens; the beach shimmers under the moon while the parking lot glows softly under streetlights. In their separate worlds, both cat and man feel a gentle peace settle over them. For a moment, it seems as if the space between them disappears—bridged by a single, heartfelt hello.
