10th January, 2011
‘I want to talk to them,' I thought as I walked back towards my street. ‘I want to ...'
But I didn't know what I wanted to do. What could I do? This whole idea was a product of my over-imaginativeness. Cats didn't convene. They certainly didn't talk. Yet there I was, a few minutes later, turning to the left down the path which led around the back of the houses rather than walking straight home.
Secretly searching for a meeting between the previous friends and perhaps enemies of my late cat.
I came up with a quote as I followed the paths. ‘One must indulge in Fantasy to escape Harsh Reality'.
I didn't find anything - of course I didn't. I hadn't really been expecting to. Id' just wanted... some sort of relief from the pain of Percy's absence.
Back in the house, I thought to a time when cats had been wandering around as we'd returned home from a trip to London. I fancied the cats wanted to invite me to one of their conventions. How would they describe me? ‘She dearly loved our friend, Perseus.'
And there the fantasy ended.
Aching, longing, depressed. Three perfect words there.
Cheer up, Ti.
Ti gives a weak attempt at a smile.