It swells deep from within. Like a storm on the horizon; it creeps ever closer. Sweat births itself, bead by bead to my skin. I can feel it; a growing pressure. My chest tightens and breath becomes shortened and constricted.
Something is here. Something is very very near. Through introspective pep-talk, I demand my eyes open. I think that if I am able to just scan the room and show myself that there is nothing around, that I’ll be free of this ominous torment that lingers along my psyche.
I inhale as deeply as I can, still unable to fill my lungs. I do this once, twice, three times. And in a fleeting moment of fabricated bravery, my eyes burst open! As the world comes into focus, I see it. My fears are realized in the realm of tangibles. I was not wrong, but oh, God how I wish I was.
For in front of me is the beast. The creature that goes bump in the night. And it nears closer to my face. I can feel its breath. It’s angry and stern. A wetness contacts the tip of my nose. Through furrowed gape, the beast drills into my eyes with his.
Unable to breathe now, I ready for the moment… Spartan licks my face.
Yes. Spartan. Spartan, the cat. He’s been on my chest and this is the moment; at 05:30 in the morning is the perfect time to demand food. And he does so by crawling along my chest and then locking eyes with me until I wake and oblige his furry demands.
This is life with a cat. A beast that goes bump in the night, and then sleeps all god damn day! A truly loathsome creature. But oh, how I love him!
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