But the black kitten observed all from the window sill at night. He knew well the pain of a well-aimed boot, the sting of cruel words.
She was kind, often leaving a saucer of milk hidden under the geraniums.
Only the kitten heard her muffled cries and crept inside.
The smug bully swaggered down the passage. Slowly the kitten crossed his path.
The superstitious bully reared in terror, knocking the mirror from the wall. It shattered. He fell, a shard piercing the cavity where his heart should have been.