I held the cat close to me. She was not dead. She was sleeping and still but not dead. I could not ignore the way she felt so white and cool and too light in my arms. I wanted to have the cat be well again. She was the creature who could make me to sleep. Breathlessly pretty, could do not wrong. I was not pretty or easy and could do SO much wrong.
My feet out the door and she in the cat cage so quiet clamored for more feet doing something right. And yet, I lingered near the car before getting in, smelled the sky before the car’s safety flooded us. I huddled inside my car-universe with my cat. The ringing phone was a bell with people on the other end, people needed something. Always a tangle of words inside a phone. One friend might be fucked up enough to say: “A new cat is what you need.” I would try to picture it. A cat with no health problems, a candle every year for this one here now asleep.