"The Cat Who Waited at the Window: A Storm, a Stranger, and the Silent Hero Who Bridged Them"
. AI-Generated.
The rain, as it so often did in Hollowbrook, painted silver streaks down the bay window of Number 17 Willow Lane. Inside, perched on the faded velvet cushion Elara Vance had placed there years ago, Mercury watched. His fur, a tapestry of storm-cloud grey and charcoal, seemed to absorb the dim afternoon light. His eyes, vast pools of ancient green, tracked the hypnotic dance of raindrops sliding down the pane, the frantic flutter of a sparrow seeking shelter under the eaves opposite, the occasional blurred shape of a person hurrying past under a dark umbrella.
