It was a dull Monday afternoon. Bishop was sitting alone on the bleachers in the gym, staring out a window.
There are many things in this timeline that I don't understand, but I do understand a few things, like the feeling of boredom, which I'm stuck with right now. I think I'll go for a walk, Bishop thought.
He rose from his seat and walked out of the gym, towards the railroad tracks. He walked down the railroad, whistling.
Suddenly, Bishop heard a muffled meow. He stopped whistling and listened intently. Sure enough, there came another meow. Bishop followed the series of meows to an old caboose. There was no doubt about it. The meows were coming from inside the caboose.
Bishop removed a few bricks from around the door of the caboose. The door was locked. He took his gun out of his boot, shot the lock off the door, and put the gun back in his boot. He then pushed open the door and climbed inside.
He looked around. A meow came from a stack of boxes in a corner. Bishop walked over to the boxes and peered down into the top one. His eyes met with those of an orange striped kitten. Carefully, Bishop lifted the kitten out of the box.
The kitten meowed. "Don't worry, little one. You're gonna be fine. I'll take care of you." Bishop, who felt like a little boy on Christmas, grinned down at the kitten.
The kitten mewed happily. Bishop held it gently in his arms, jumped out of the caboose, and headed homeward. "You need a name. I know! I'll call you Meow."
The kitten meowed happily and begun to purr. Bishop laughed.
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