To my not so little kitty, Bandit. I will love you forever no matter how much you love the woods more than me.

The odd little white socks. The grayness of your fur. The love of the outdoors.

The way you love me. The way you hate others.

The way you pad forward. The way you run away.

The way you stay asleep. The way you travel awake.

The way you are loving. The way you are hateful.

The way you nuzzle me. The way you bite people

The way you breath softly. The way you trample loudly.

The ways you are perfect. The ways you are mischievous. The ways I love you.

You are mine, mine forever. Forever to hold very close. I will always love you.

The way you are you.

———————————————————————

To my very first cat, believed to have been given to me by Santa😅

You matter to me most.

Your gentle and wet nose. Nudging me the way forward.

Your tentativeness and scared nature. Got the best of you.

But did that matter most? No, it never bothered me. Only a small worry, barely.

Will I miss you, yes. For I still haven’t forgotten. You died without my goodbye. My loving hug and kiss. Without me by your side.

My first and forever Princess. I will cherish your love. Your never ending hating humans. Your not so subtle goodbye.

(And now I’ve made myself cry😔😢😿)

———————————————————————

Lone Woman Garden of Eden

It was a dark day. That much was incredibly obvious.

Violet slowly opened her curtains. And then closed them quickly.

Breathing in sharply, she stilled. Her entire body was frozen. Pain cinched her chest tight. Stars bloomed in her vision.

Yes, today would be dark.

She navigated by touch alone. The rough velvet of curtains. The coarseness of her bedcovers. The coolness of her duvet.

She slipped swiftly underneath it. Closed her eyes and exhaled.

And let the darkness win.

“Why are you so angry?” This is what he asked.

She looked at him, bewildered. How could he ask that? How could he not know? Was he just outright oblivious?

She looked at the man. She studied him, very carefully. She wanted to understand him. Of course, she wanted to. Part of her already did. Yes, part of her knew.

Their lives were very similar. And yet, they were not. There were slight variances there. Though, the differences felt massive. The differences felt monstrous, now.

“Why are you so angry?” He asked this question, again. He looked at her, curious.

She wanted to scream loudly. She wanted to throw something. She wanted to thrash about. Yet, she remained calmly seated. She did not lose her temper. Instead, she remained quiet, demure. Instead, she averted her eyes.

“I am not really angry.” This is how she replied. Of course, it was untrue. It was a blatant lie.

She was surprised he noticed. She was surprised he asked. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to understand. And so, she didn’t tell.

“So what’s going on downtown?” “I work here, you know.” Cue blank stare, then smiling. “How about a smoke, then?” My turn to stare, now. Disbelief, then a little confusion. It’s like we’ve never met. She may not remember me… But how could I forget? The last name was familiar. The way her face scowled. Strange, how people pass through. In and out of here. Always on their way back. Still, every moment is new. So that’s how we behave. Like every word can matter. Past patterns may feel familiar. But this moment, uniquely ours… This time will be different.

I wish I was better. Basketball is so much fun. Like a sort of ballet. I can only sit, watch. Court-side seats, an unexpected gift. I played a little, once. In my younger, fitter years. But I can’t play now. My knees would swell up. And jumping is… certainly ill-advised.

It seems some strange magic. Manipulating the ball that way. How they move so swiftly. And the dunks, my word! They may well be wizards. I can only sit, watch.

The concessionaire hawks his product. His voice thunders over cheers. Security removes a lone figure. He got caught scalping bull. I saw him outside, earlier. Trying hard to sell tix. Quite the maverick, this one. Trying to net a profit. Security wouldn’t abide that jazz. He tried to play cavalier. But he was quickly nixed. Now my mind does wander. Spurred on by these events. Who was the first one? The first to scalp tickets? Strange kind of trail blazer.

The game is over now. I’m outside of the stadium. A pacer drives by me. Not firing on all pistons. The beep of a horn. It’s an impatient Uber driver. Delivering food from Burger King. Whopper, and maybe some nuggets. Drives off like a rocket. Cold food is no good. Fast food needs the heat. A lone dog barks, angry. He looks sort of grizzly. Like a large timber wolf. Tough, like a canine warrior.

I see a lovely woman. She looks like Karen Filippelli. Cans and trash whirl about. A strong wind blows, easterly. Moves at a steady clip. Her eyes meet my own. We agree to get drinks. Her first name is Lake. Her smile is so delightful. The light of two suns. I sit, content, attention: rapt. Or, so it would seem. The bar bill shows up. We spent maybe 60 bucks. I leave 76, er…77. I forget all about basketball.

"Not today," he whispered softly.

The shop lights flickered incessantly. My stomach gnawed in complaint.

"Please," I trembled, almost begging.

He turned around, head shaking. Back to his other customers. The ones who could pay.

I stumbled into the night. Rain soaked into my clothes. A small rat scurried past. A well-earned morsel in paw.

The rat was a King. Tonight, I was it's pauper.

No, it would not share. Not with me - a vagrant. The Stig of the dump.

The granite was bitingly cold. My cup empty, as usual.

Time ticked it's weary hand.

Strangers drew near - then more.

A jingle in my cup!

Perhaps hope remains, after all.

The rain covers my window. The weather is frightful awful. It has been for days. But still it rains on. Without stop just keeps going. The rain makes me think. Nothing in particular, random things. Things like friends and family. School and my summer job. If summer ever actually comes. I think about my life. Sounds like a big topic. But my life is ordinary. I don’t go on adventures. I lie in bed thinking. I don’t have many friends. A few good ones only. I have a small family. No distant cousins to visit. No secret grandparents to meet. Just my mum and dad. I don’t want my sister. So I don’t count her. I have three white dogs. Names all are Christmas related. I was five year old.

"I'm sorry," is not enough.

Don’t let them judge you. They don’t see the necessity. The patterns smooth the ache. The lack of them infuriate. The tap tap tap tap….. ……………………………….. ………………………………..

Don’t let them judge you. They don’t see the necessity. The patterns smooth the ache. The lack of them infuriate. Tap tap tap tap tap