Cat in the Rain

I wrote a continuation from Hemingway's piece. I know he would be proud of me:)

..Some one knocked at the door.

"Avanti," Geroge said. He looked up from his book. In the doorway stood the mad. She held a big tortoise-shell cat pressed against her and swung down against her body.

"Excuse me," she said. "The padrone asked me to bring this for the Signore."

"But this is mot the one, I want that tiny kitty under the table," she said to the maid. "You don't understand, its important that I save her from the rain."

"Can't you just accept it dear, what difference does it makes?" George is still glued to his book. The cat is now the maid's arm. "I'm sorry girl, give her back to the padrone."

Outside, the storm is getting angrier. The American lady sat at the balcony, letting the rain showered her, her eyes chasing signs of the cat. The padrone is watching her from the palm trees. George with his obsession, the maid occupies herself with umbrellas. She lets the rain soaks her, her soul reaching out for the kitten. Her eyes closed, arms crossed, head up, excessively enjoying the rough drips, lips slightly parted, slowly waiting for the kitty to come closer...