As she skips down the street on her way home, the cats from the neighbouring buildings come scampering over. Some dart in and around her feet while others stand on their hind legs begging for her affection. Taking their paws in hand, X dances with them to a song only they are privileged to hear and as a chorus of meowing rings out, she spins down the sidewalk not looking back. In her pocket, little Herbie stirs, and upon seeing the gang of cats promptly shits himself before burrowing as far into the pocket as he possibly can. Clicking her fingers, X shakes her head, and as her hair falls before her eyes, she jumps from the kerb and kicks her feet into a puddle splashing manky rainwater about. The cats jump in with her, and as they mimic her moves, she kisses her teeth and offers her arms to a grey tabby which leaps into the air. When she catches him, she sings as the others follow close behind, and together they march along creating a din that to them sounds as wonderful as the breaking of dawn. Tickling the tummy of the moggy she cradles like a babe in arms, she speaks in the language of cats, to which it purrs in appreciation before narrowing its eyes. The others are all jealous, but they’ll get their chance, they just know they will. Popping the cat back down, she kneels and scratches the heads of all her feline friends, and as they each purr in turn, she can see their noses sniffing the scent of little Herbie. Laughing at them as they circle her, she gets to her feet and waves at the magpies watching from the tree opposite. On occasion, she’s drunkenly climbed that tree clutching a mouthful of worms which the birds have greedily taken from her with hungry beaks. Letting out a cry in response to her waving, they continue to watch as she skips up the steps to the building she shares with people she doesn’t know nor wants to. Punching in her number, the door clicks and she pushes it open. Turning to the cats, she calls out to them and they meow in kind before going on their way. Jumping up the stairwell, she climbs to the top floor and races to her apartment and puts the key in the hole whereupon she gets the strangest of feelings as the faint taste of oranges dance on the tip of her tongue. Tilting her head, she pushes open the door, and as an aroma of warm air and dust hits her, she closes her eyes as the sound of distant thunder rumbles into her bones causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end, and just like that, she steps through to the other side.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US