It was cold at night, but clear mornings would bring sunshine and heat, driving him out of the building. Heat and hunger: the persistent search for food goaded him out into the open as relentlessly as the burning metal walls.

Approaching the doorway was the worst part of his day. The transition from safe, inky shadows to the harsh brightness brought fear and temporary blindness. Unable to see danger, his ears sharpened as he listened for the sounds of threat. Smells were useless here. Surrounded by rusted metal, everything had the ferrous odor of fear. He shuffled closer to the doorway, eyes adjusting for what seemed like an eternity. A hot breeze blew, moving shapes in the distance, causing him to startle at first, then relax. No threat, just junk blowing around.

He moved outside in erratic bursts, pausing to assess his surroundings and moving on. At the edge of the road, the strangers sometimes left things. He continued to scan the horizon, because other strangers were not so kind.

Success. One of the strangers had left something – a brightly colored paper bag, the remains of a meal. It would be enough. He ripped into the bag and managed a few bites before he felt the eyes on him. Looking sideways, mid-bite, he saw the predatory gaze. Long, bounding strides took him from his find, back towards the relative safety of the building.

A sudden jerk, and he was stopped, a tearing pain and he was free again, racing even faster towards the dark opening. Reaching it, he swung himself up and climbed until he could reach a perch over the doorway, watching it nervously. The gray fur over his heaving ribs bristled as he cleaned his bloodied tail, looking for danger’s return. He would go out again later. He would have to. But for now, the dark was better.