ghost

 

I keep thinking that I hear the plaintive cry of a cat in distress, and my heart leaps within me. 

It is a year to the day of Silas's death, four months since Minos's. They were fourteen and fifteen respectively- how long did I expect their little lives to go on? I miss them, our gentle tabby and ambassadorial black cat. 

I have, however, a storehouse of delightful memories of them, and it is to this I return when overcome by loss; they live forever thus.