Black cat on a wire ...

The wire moved, it looked like a spiders silken thread in the the light of the night. That silver - dark light. Where your eyes think they are seeing moving bodies and demons of darkness, but they turn to shadows as you peer through the soughing branches of low hanging trees and vegetation overgrown with neglect.

The cat, black as velvet and sleek as the flowing water in the nearby stream, passes over the wire. Unafraid he moves as though meeting his soul mate. In no hurry and not seeing the demons we see. The time to be afraid is when the cat stops and stares. He looks into the empty night and sees what we cannot. His ears lifted for sounds that we cannot hear. We should be worried, for whatever he sees and hears is coming closer ... ever closer.

The night hangs heavy. Yet the stars shine in a clear sky, but the oppressive air suffocates the throat. The cat moves with grace, as only cats can be described as doing and leaps to continue his life, off the wire.
He has a knowing sense of urgency and suddenly disappears, gone.
The wire swings as though it never knew a cat ...



Written May 2009