Friday, April 21, 2006

A house with one cat

It’s different now. Quieter. He never talked as much as she did. She was chatty like me.

The night after I put her down, I had a sense memory of being five. I had arranged all my stuffed animals on my bed, which wasn’t a bed anymore but a ship, like Noah’s Ark. Except my bed-ship could fly. We flew all over the world, my animals and me. No one else was allowed to come, and no matter what happened, we could always fly away.

Thinking about it, I realize that, in certain respects, I haven’t changed at all.

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