Snow-covered traces

Grumbling, she hugged Bepo, the pale winter sun tore her from her sleep, no matter how beautiful it was. She lay there half on the floor, half in her chair. How did she get into this position? Bepo still held tightly to her, she stared around, still drunk with sleep. She didn't want to get up - not yet. Protestant she rose with Bepo.
'Do I still need a bed? 'she thought, put Bepo down on one of the books - it said' Warrior Cats', one of the few bright spots in the world of non-fiction - and strolled towards the bathroom. Bepo's shiny black eyes stared indifferently into the distance, the light reflected in them.
In front of the sink, she remembered that she still had to write a paper on English history in the 16th century. She made an exasperated sound; she wanted to do something else, just not that.

"I have to go through that.", She mumbled, looked at herself in the mirror and splashed two handfuls of water on her face. Suddenly a gentle moan could be heard.

"I'm coming," she said and stuck a blue toothbrush with toothpaste between her teeth and again a moan could be heard, this time plaintive, accompanied by a scratching along something smooth. She padded quickly into the kitchen.
Crouched down in front of one of the cupboards and rummaged through the many other things for something very specific. Another moan and more scratching. After some digging, she found the object of her desire and hurried to the source of the scratching. A cat was sitting by the window. Their paws wet from the melted snow. A little clumsily, she opened the little jar with the tuna in it and laid it on the snow-covered windowsill. The black and white kitten greedily rushed to his meal. Malaika looked out into the street. Almost bare bushes, in which one could still see the signs of autumn, and trees blocked her unrestricted view, but she could still see the slush. Snow from the previous day, which was littered by cars and which now piled up on the curb. She took her eyes off the disgust of winter and tapped the cat's head with her index finger. This did not show it; continued to eat. While the cat continued to eat, she went back to the bathroom and rinsed her mouth out first. Back to the window, where she was actually waiting for the kitten, it wasn't anymore ... It was sitting under one of the bushes and was busy grooming itself. Suddenly she noticed how cold it was - far too cold. Warmly, she crossed her arms around her body, even when she was wearing a t-shirt and trousers, every year the winter managed to breathe the last bit of warmth out of her body, which is not very surprising when it comes to her clothes ...

She quickly turned the heating to three, peeked her head out of the window into the freezing cold and saw the tuna can upside down in the snow.At first she looked disapprovingly at the can, as if this piece of metal had done something to her, but looked at the kitten and smiled.

"Are you leaving it there?" Asked a male voice and she flinched back. Slowly she stuck her head out more in the direction of the voice and saw her neighbor who was holding a newspaper in his gloved hands.

"Good morning, Mihawk. I don't think I'll leave it there ..." she greeted him and briefly indicated a wave with her right hand. The cold stung her hand painfully. He just nodded to her in greeting, patted his boots on the small stairs and went into his apartment. She could still hear how he opened a window - and that in this cold - to let in fresh air and how he switched on his coffee machine, which went to work shortly afterwards with a clatter. This sound reminded her that she must now needed a cup of cocoa and so she closed the window.

The kitten hadn't sat under the bush for a while, her paw prints traced along the snow; she went her way again.

As a waitress in a small pub, she knew everyone who came by often, regularly and now and then. She knew the customers' preferences, listened to their stories. Staring absently into the area, she polished one of the glasses again. She thought about whether it would still snow today and about the canned fish that was still in the snow. Critically of her own complex train of thought, she raised an eyebrow and placed the now polished glass next to the other glasses, which could sparkle in competition with the newly added one. She hung the cloth under the sink, a hook was ready for the cloth. As a makeshift she dried her slightly damp hands on her apron and turned to the stereo system, which, in her opinion, should be able to hear different music.
Her face a few centimeters away from the marvel of technology, she narrowed both eyes briefly and thought.
What song should this device play?
She hurriedly pressed the same button over and over again, stopped and waited to see which song would come.

[i]I've been roaming around, I was looking down at all I see
Painted faces fill the places I can't reach
You know that I could use somebody
You know that I could use somebody

She liked this song. She hummed the melody softly. Without her noticing, the door opened. A young man came in with heavy boots. With his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, today's newspaper peeked out. He came closer to the counter with long strides, and she too now noticed his attention.

"Ace ?!" she asked puzzled and looked at her watch. "Isn't it a little early?"

"It's never too early," he replied with a grin and added: "But that's not why I'm here."His face took on serious features; he sat down on a stool, took out his hands with the newspaper and laid it down for her.

"Read this through." He pointed with his index finger at the article that she should read through.

There was amazement on her face; she put her reading glasses on her nose, which was lying around in a corner of the counter and stared spellbound at the printed paper. Her eyes wandered over it, there was no interest, she just wanted to scan it.

"Huh?" Came the well-known 'what-is'n-that? '-Listened to her, and she looked at Ace with a questioning look.

"They don't mean that seriously, right? I don't think that the Frankfurt Christmas market will be blown up by the guys who did it in New York."

"What if we do? Then we're in the middle of it!"

That didn't convince her. How often should that happen? Here? That would always happen somewhere else!

"Don't worry, Ace." - She herself doubted her own words. - "It will be alright."

Even when she strolled home again, very tired, she still couldn't get the thought of danger out of her head. In front of the door she heard a kind of cough, definitely that of her neighbor - the flu must have hit again. But this sound also reminded her that the tuna tin was still in the snow.
She stopped for a moment, she really didn't feel like the tuna can, but who else should clean it up? Her feet sank gently into the snow, the canned food was now right in front of her. She also saw the cat's tracks; slowly snow fell. She really didn't feel like doing that. Just like her boot prints, the paw prints also sank under the light snowflakes ...

"And off with it in the trash!", She said and said goodbye at the same time to the piece of metal. As she walked into the warm apartment, she saw a moving truck turning into the street. But she wasn't interested in that yet ...
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Aye, hope you enjoyed it :)