Weirdo came up for air, sniffed my lips, rested her little black head on my arm, and sighed and went back to sleep.
I laid there, human, for hours, my brain racing like space probes through the void, trying to find intelligent life inside my strange body or grace or hope or something, my open eyes watching the air around me change ever so slowly from black to gray to pink to clear.
The chickens that I have were starting to fuss, wanting out. It was time, but no way was I getting up yet, not with this cat on my arm like that, snoring pretty much exactly like a man. *
EBB TIDE CAFE
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1500 S. Van Ness, SF
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