​Everyone had a part of themselves hidden from the rest of the world. More often than not, this was a good thing, but there were a few exceptions where the world would better off if these people wore their hearts on their sleeves. Sarah, a young woman closed away in her cubicle, was such a woman. She had a deeper kindness and desire for love deep inside her, but this to her was a weakness better left off hidden rather than revealed.

​“Where did you find him?” my wife asked me.

“Just outside the bar on the corner,” I replied as I scrubbed the dog in our bathtub. “He was sniffing at a passed out drunk who woke up and punched the dog.”

“No!”

​Henry massaged his legs thoughtfully at his desk. The computer stopped buzzing in numbers, so he decided to take the opportunity to stretch and sketch. He reached into his bag and pulled out the pad, flipping through the pages till he rested on a fresh, blank page.

Michael watched as Cat blushed everytime he tried to talk to her. He smiled even when she snapped or faked bravery. She was always so protective of herself even when he was his most friendly. At some points he did wonder if she wanted to be friends with him and Henry. However, every now and then he saw her smile and he knew she hated to be alone.

​Cat was not a cat. She was a woman that worked a boring job in a corporate hell. Catherine, or Cat to her friends, wasn’t a sociable woman. In fact, she actively tried to avoid people as much as possible. However, her time came to move from company to the Company. A new job in a new city. She was alone in a townhouse that didn’t seem to fit her. She often left it in a mess the same way she left her apartment, however, it wasn’t a mess of clothing or junk food wrappers. It was a mess of books.