Animals and Booty Shakin'
A few months back, pre-bronchitis, I left my apartment on a Friday evening with the intention of going for a jog. I jogged past the old men drinking soju at the plastic picnic table outside the Best One convenient store, and up towards the river. When I say 'river' I really mean, a man made trench with water in it, that either reaks of sewage or is swarming with mosquitos, but it's the only place I can jog without fear of being flattened by an oncoming vehicle. As I reached the top of the stairs that lead down to the river, I spotted a kitten, huddled in the corner of one of the steps. I stopped on the step she was on and she eyed me with fear. Her tiny body shook fiercely and I could see her ribs and her spine poking through her fur. Cats are viewed like rats here, and are rarely ever pets, but instead roam the streets eating garbage. I bent down and she hissed at me, a pathetic, tired hiss. I scooped her up in my arms and walked back to my apartment. She hissed and growle...