Master of the House

She padded into the avocado-colored kitchen in her bathrobe and bunny slippers as Roxy continually pounced on the fuzzy white "prey" that she treasured so dearly. The six-month old calico began meowing insistently as her attention was drawn away from the bunny ear that she was gnawing on, and she intently eyed the glass of milk the girl was pouring.

The old man was sitting in the living room, pointedly ignoring his daughter's presence. Slumped in his ugly brown easy chair, clad in his weekend garb - wife-beater and pajama bottoms, he buried his nose farther into the newspaper. As she turned to leave, her hands full of a glass of milk and a plate of biscuits and gravy, his vile mouth opened, unleashing his next volley of venomous words.