CAT (a Literary Club assignment)

*In the lamplight, the withered leaves collect at my feet.

She lies on her side on the new quilted bedspread, legs tucked underneath as if asleep. I know she's not by the way she moves two green eyes, narrow slits ignoring my presence. She turns onto her stomach while stretching out her limbs to clutch the soft, downy cover, stretching with a low purr, confident she has my full attention. I stroke with one hand from her shoulders down her spine as slowly as possible, barely touching, knowing from experience the demands of her pleasure. She responds nonchalantly, gradually arching her back, then raising her hips at the end to meet my hand, pushing hard against it as if to say, "You dare to disturb my solitude?"

Sometimes, I feel like I'm just a source of sustenance to her, a warm place out of the rain. But that can't be true; why does she stay when anyone3 could provide her with what I provide?

She was on her own a long time before I took her in, a creature bound by instinct and self-preservation with a hard-luck past. No wonder she finds people untrustworthy. I believe that she loves me even if she is still unable to show it. Our time together must mean something to her. For now, I'll settle for just the mystery of our companionship: Why this exotic beauty chose me to ease her troubles; how she unespectedly came to help me forget out of the lamplight.

She leans close and whispers, "You're the only one who understands."

* from the musical
Cats.

J. Wallace