I am uneasy

Today I prowl, and I yowl. I send my questions to the universe echoing down the staircase. I ask, Why does Uncle Bryan leave us every morning, not returning sometimes until quite late? Why did Aunt Mary leave us and then return a few days later and then seem sad and tired? Why did the Food-Giver pack his guitar and leave us? Why did Buckley try to squish me like a bug in the corner behind the door? Why was I born smaller than my brother, despite my superior intellect?

Why?

Why?

Why? I ask the universe.

I shall seek my answers in the radiator. Buckley told me the wise lady in the radiator knows many things. I shall consult her, but I remain uneasy.