April 26, 2003
the cat stalks my feet every night. i should file a restraining order, she waits in the dark abyss of my closet, her back legs filling with adrenaline of the hunt. eyes big and shiny like two ghost quarters hanging in the sky. the pounce is viscious and aggressive, hungrily clawing at my toes and ankles. her hair is everywhere, even more than mine. break out my lunch at work: there’s her hair, wipe the dust off the cd player in my car: there’s her hair, its a calculated move to get me even when she can’t harm my feet.