Dumping her shoulderbag on the floor behind the cash register, Kara prodded the register into life and leaned back against it, keeping her eyes towards the street. Traffic puttered by, and Kara exhaled slowly. New life. New apartment. New city. New job. New everything, really. New could be a little overwhelming though, and at that moment, Kara actually wanted nothing more than a corn dog from the corner store.
The marmalade tabby curled around her ankles, and Kara stooped to pick him up, cradling him on her shoulder. She turned her head and moved the tag around his throat to read it. The tag read, 'Hudson.'
"Who names a cat Hudson?" Kara requested of the cat, who promptly headbutted her cheek, purring loudly. Not that she expected an answer, but talking to a cat was better than having the oppressive silence of the store surrounding her. She looked around the store front, spotting a tape-player radio combination. Perfect. Maybe Chicago had a good classical music station.