Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word

Dear Inky,

This may not be much but it's all I can do now. This apology is for you and only you. Approximately 15 minutes ago you were smack dab in the middle of the street... doing God knows what. Maybe cleaning your paws with short kitten licks. Perhaps taking a break from playing underneath the nearby shrubbery? I'll never know. But I saw you two seconds too late. We locked eyes and then I felt it. An odd, foreign movement in my undercarriage. And then nothing. I tried to see you in my rearview mirror but you were gone. Gone like magic. Like tragic Black Magic. I don't know your real name- but you looked like an Inky to me. Maybe it was Tuxedo or Voodoo or Midnight or Licorice or maybe even Ninja. I'll never ever know. Before tonight I cared very little for felines. They always seemed sneaky to me. Untrustworthy. But you changed all of that in a split second. I care for you deeply though I never knew you. Having trouble forgiving myself for what I could not do. I couldn't brake. I couldn't stop. I couldn't swerve. And now I've forever been changed by these events. You were the cutest, blackest, tiniest ball of fluff I had ever seen. Your beautiful emerald eyes froze as mine widened to the size of milk saucers. Oh dear, you'll never drink milk again. Never scamper around with a ball of yarn. Never purr contentedly when your owner scratches behind your ears. I know those are all clichés you only see in cartoons but you deserved to do these things before your young life was snuffed out by my vehicle. Inky, you have touched me and although I'd never want to own a kitten, you'll be a part of me forever. My anguish knows no limit at the moment.

Guilt-ridden,
This Bug