“I don’t get cold,” says the cool cat, “I just catch a chill.”
“Don’t steal my lines and then try to impress me with them,” I tease.
I point the left foot, of my crossed leg, from my seated position.
The bones structuring the top, flat part of my foot crackle themselves loose.
I make a strange, welp noise as I feel a tendon overstretch and then reassert itself back into place.
“You are so loud,” the cat moans, stepping over, circling and pawing my grounded, left foot. S/he finally lies down atop my foot.
A robust, white-tailed rabbit plods along in little plopping hops.
It has the legs of a frog.
The cat pounces at it. Claws pushing off me.
Sinking in. I do not yelp this time.
The rabbit reveals sparrow like wings and flies away.
A flying frog that mimics hares.
Reading my dreaming mind, the cat nods at me.
“This would make a a good illustrated children’s book.”
“Hey! Will you do that thing I like?” asks the cool cat.
I flip off the light switch and light a candle.
I make shadow puppets play and flit on the wall.
The cat tries to catch the intangible phantoms.