The little cat liked the second floor of the old house best. Right in through the broken wall and back about a foot where she had dragged a few bits of cloth to keep her warm. The cloth had been found left various places in town, unattended by the humans and deemed free for the taking. The roof was just high enough above her to let the air flow, but not too high as to let something else sneak and scurry about above.
Right now she looked out from the heap on the murky day as the rain continued for the third straight hour. It was one of the few occasions she wished some other cat would come by and draw her attention from the steady drum. The little cat had a few object to pass her time and a cache of food to take care of her . She gazed over at a string hanging on the wall where she had left it. A short bit of it danced in the draft catching her attention making her miss a small cricket .
The Cricket had the unfortunate luck of being stuck in the space with the cat. Now he had been their first and if one was going to argue, he had just as much right to demand her departure. Yet, he had not made a noise for fear she would end up her toy. The recent turn of events distracting his would be captor, provided his salvation or at least let him face improved odds located outside these closed quarters. He hopped out and scaled the side of the building, upward to hang out under one of the stronger eaves of the house.
The little cat reached out halfheartedly at the string, batting in its general direction. Her eyes showing an expectation that the it would bend to her will and continue in its dance. At this moment the wind changed directions whisking errant drops on to her back paws and giving the little cat a start. She rolled to a defensive posture ready to take on her assailant. Ears perked up waiting to locate the ghost when it made its next move. Here eyes widened as she took shifted glances around to see who may have scurried in without a noise.
It seemed like forever to her before she realized it was but the wind that had assailed her. One of very few foes that could always win the fight. She then rolled herself over to put the clothes between her and the opening. She let her eyes sink shut and a small purr emanate. The little cat was now back to her nirvana of heightened sound awareness.
The wind-chime on the porch always entertained the queen. She could sit for hours watching as it danced. Once she had found a way to the roof and was able to lean over and bat at the chimes. It had confounded the residents of the house till they caught her paw reaching down. Little cat was escorted off the roof and tossed along her way. The humans had figured out how she got up there and made it so she could not climb and play with the chime again.
Yet it still amused her, and she returned often to listen. The melody the wind carried today was high pitched today and she wished she could help some of the heavier chimes move to offset the notes played. In her mind she pictured how it would sound, orchestrated to tell her story of a successful hunt. She purred at the thought of her memories set to a soundtrack.
The little cat let her musical aspirations go as she turned back to lying in the grass and letting the sun warm her belly. After a bit, her eyes caught a large bird in the sky and her thoughts drifted to whether it was one she could catch or if it would catch her. Birds high in the air are deceiving at times and if she judged wrong it could lead to problems. Not that she had ever made such a miscalculation.
It was time to move on and so she sprang up to her paws, startling a nearby squirrel which bolted up a tree. She masked her reaction with indifference and strutted down the street as if she had intended to scare it the whole time.
Thought nothing of that
With a dash and leap
Didn’t think it so steep
Tore off to the sky
Forgetting how to fly
Came down with a thump
Without sign of a lump
Scampered off with a shake
Another attempt to make
A slight movement in the air caught her attention. Was it a leaf, a feather, perhaps a bird? She rolled on to her side and balled in to a stalking hunch. Whatever it was she was going to catch it. Keeping herself flat, welded to the ground, she slowly inched forward. It had not seen her yet as it continued its ride of currents. The object spiraled down closer to the ground before being listed on another flow.
She watched for a good ten minutes as the bird darted around in the air, never to land more than a second. Its wings flapped faster than anything she had ever seen. The body of the bird was smaller than anything she had eaten before. The taste was what she could not decide on and what drove her to continue her stalking. It may have a sweet taste or it may be more feathers than flesh but that did not matter anymore. Now it was a question of patience.
She watched the bird make its way to the flowers of a plant. It was not the nip, but another flower that she had decided was nice tasting and fragrant. It had once seemed to settle her stomach when it was sour but other than that she knew nothing about it. She charged her legs ready to leap this time. The bird was at a lower flower and easily in her grasp. She started her leap certain to have a new meal. but she watched the bird move with such speed it was gone by the time she landed.
The little cat played it off as she had just been exercising, indifferent to the bird who was now well aware of her. She didn’t even give a second look as it flew a little lower to enquire who she was. It did not matter anymore. It was time to prowl. So she left the field in search of entertainment.
You sing to the moon
Calling out names that no one knows
A prayer for those that no one hears
Do you feel the dark coming soon
The moon does not care if you sing of woes
Yours is a song full of hope and tears
You know nothing but joy
Yet yearn for the comfort of others
The moon is bright today
But you are not its toy
You are left your druthers
Singing a song that chases dark away