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The street lamps had just been turned on when the little boy sat down on the curb. He rubbed his wet, red eyes. Staring down the street with a swollen face, past the houses and parked cars, he saw nothing but the shadows. It was only when a familiar high-pitched sound made its way toward him that he let oblivion go and focused on the world again. It was his friend, the neighbor’s cat, whose old age had left him emaciated. He meowed his way towards the boy and bumped his skinny head into his thigh. Running his hand through the sparse and no longer soft fur, the boy for a moment forgot about the yelling inside, while his friend forgot that once again he had to spend the night outside.