Fuzzy

it’s the most clothes it wore in months. it is allowed outside now, it seems.

it feels so naked, but somehow, it is unable to cover itself.

it’s head is so fuzzy.

it’s body was not like that before. it had a name, it cannot remember it.

The man at the bar is looking at it. With one commanding move, He calls it.

Why is it complying?

Why does it drops on its knees?

Why does it crave Him so much?

What’s going on with it?