You recall being a romantic girl, too, quite blinded by love, crossing a street at night -- and a light then too -- and a bus horn very loud.
And just now you were just becoming comfortable being a cat -- and only got the one cat life! But you gotta laugh.
Now this bright Cecil B DeMille light -- This is That light. And the place that has no walls, no anything as limiting as architecture, you know really is not a cat's heaven -- isn't anybody's kind of heaven. You are incorporeal, after all: between bodies, as they say.
You discover again, for here you remember it and all you were before, that this idea of heaven actually resembles more...an All Souls Jobs Bank: for all of us, eventually, inevitably, should one very surprising day find ourselves between lives. Happily, here the waits are short. No references required. You learn by doing. And your choices truly are limitless.
Being a cat didn't work out -- and you're tired of the C's. Maybe you can shake things up by jumping some letters. But your new eyes fall upon an ex-cat -- inescapable as Fate -- gruesomely decorating the sidewalk before a townhouse somewhere in Cornwall.
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