Garold

A cat-shaped shadow on the warm, sunlight floor beneath an east window – yawns. She tolerates an expensive, difficult to swallow pill. The implicit, asymetrical reward is Ms. Ginger's favorite food – and for both of us some time on my lap in the cool, shadowless glow of the TV, rubbing behind her ears. After that, a nap wherever she wants. Then a trip to the box – priceless. We find such simple joy in each day, because tomorrow is promised to none of us.