Passer-by

There appears in your backyard a pure white cat with pink ears you never saw before who looks at you calmly as you stamp and shush and sting your hands clapping it off. In its own time it starts away and moves in mystery and dignity. What if the trespasser were an angel? Would you say you don't like cats then? If you want the best in everything doesn't that call for your best? The floating walk, the sprightly carriage speak authority, the absence of a collar, available. It turns to look back - only once, in its eyes a curiosity, a gentleness, utterly without recrimination. You wonder why the rooms of your house have a hollow ring when you go back in, why a surge of feeling crosses the dark silence, why your arms thorny as cactus branches ache for embrace.

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK