Monday, April 15, 2019

The Rim of Morning


It has been a monotonous night and as I turn the corner, I see the silhouette of my house against the backdrop of dawn arising. With each slowly paced effort, my aged limbs feel laden down as if I were carrying a heavy weight upon my back.
Through the back door I enter, and somnolence takes over. I pause for a few breaths at the bottom of the staircase, relieved to be indoors. Over the sound of my panting, I hear birds chirping, relaying how ecstatic they are at the world, whilst inside me, rage is erupting triggering an overwhelming urge to go outside and silence them. Instead, I am steadfast, listening for any other movement at this unsociable time, but there are none.
Gazing up, I begin the task of climbing each of the steep steps to reach my final destination.  At last I have achieved the mountain’s peak, still weary but instantly unburdened as I sit again for a brief respite pleased at my achievement. I am as calm as the sea on a sun-blasted day.
Abruptly, my attention is raised to the sound of a door being scraped open followed by the creaking of it slowly closing. A few minutes pass, and I gingerly push it open again. I survey the best possible position to rest my fatigued frame and with a single jump, I can see the horizon of the bed clearly now. I sense some warmth coming from a dent in the middle and settle where it had been occupied.
 The quietness is interrupted by my “Feeder” approaching me with a smiling face indicating that she is pleased to see me, and she mumbles something that I do not care for. In response, I meow, unbeknownst to her that I am disgusted at the disruption. I yawn widely bearing my sharp teeth, lick my outstretched limbs, rub my nose and whiskers with my paws, curl up in a ball with my tail wrapped around me and fall into a deep and long-awaited sleep.

Jan M
April 2019

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