Whistling in the Dark

Her flight should land in about an hour. Maybe less. It's tracking early, right now.

It's me and the cat. And the cat's unhappy. She keeps crawling onto the pillow that she slept on, and yowling. And then comes out, and stares at me. She liked having two people here.

Sometimes the cat crawls next to me though. And I think it's because she can sense I'm not at my happiest.

I'm lying on the couch right now. The television is on. I'm sleeping out here tonight. I just don't want to sleep in there tonight. I don't want to mess up the scent that still clings to the pillow. And not just for my cat.

It's quiet. It's empty.

I'm really quite stunned at how easily we set up housekeeping together. It was incredibly natural.

And this? Feels utterly imposed and unnatural. The apartment isn't supposed to feel like this.

I'm not supposed to feel like this.

I miss her.