The cat goes out.
The cat comes in.
Elections come and go. Promises are made, kept, broken and forgotten. Administrations bluster into existence, collide with cold reality, disintegrate into competing memoirs, and get relegated to footnotes in survey-level textbooks. Empires rise and fall.
The cat goes out.
The cat comes in.
Spring leaves bud out on the trees as the green grass emerges from under its blanket of snow. Temperatures climb and then first the grass and then the leaves turn brown, and then white under the frost once more.
The cat goes out.
The cat comes in.
Children are born. They stay up all night. They sleep through the night. They sleep through the morning and stay up all night again. They meet lovers and have children of their own.
The cat goes out.
The cat comes in.
Doors open and doors shut. Windows tilt in, slide up, slide down. Openings are left for just a split second, for a forgotten morning, for days.
The cat goes out.
The cat comes in.
There is no force on earth as constant as a cat on the wrong side of the door.
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3 comments:
There is no force on earth as constant as a cat on the wrong side of the door.
I beg to differ. You've obviously never lived with the Incomparable Boogie™.
If a cat were in the Chateau of Versailles and all the doors were open except for one, the cat would stand in front of that door.
Well said.
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