A Morning with a Friend's Cat

Seven in the morning, I woke thirty minutes before the alarm. Because the orange cat in the photo my friend had just sent came to mind. It had been a long time since a weekday morning felt this unhurried. The place I arrived at was a simple studio apartment. She opened the door with a glad smile. But the cat was nowhere to be seen. Something like sunlight was shining through the gap in the bedroom door. “Guess he slept in our hallway. I left the window open yesterday.” The cat, eyes shining, was moving between the hallway and the living room, sniffing. She said in a low voice, “He's been out again.” I drew the curtain back a little and looked at the sky through the window of the unlit room. A morning without a single cloud. Handing me a canned coffee, she said, “A morning cat is a different creature, I'm telling you.” I was moving quietly through the morning, looking for the cat again.