Room 209, Thursday Evening

It was quiet in Sparkle's room, finally. There was no incessant muttering into a dead phone, there was no sound of a hungry cat yowling. In the latter case, that was because the cat had fortunately been rescued days before. In the former, it was because Sparkle was just so. Damn. Tired.

That hadn't stopped him from trying, though. Hadn't stopped him from sitting on his floor in the spilled kibble, clutching the business card with Melanie's number in one hand, holding the phone to his face. He was murmuring, staring at the floor, chapped lips moving though no sound came forth.

They were so close now. Melanie had promised. She'd found a place for him, where he would always belong, and he just needed to talk to her for a little longer before he could finally go home.

[For one!]