She’s not coming back. My cat chose freedom and a farmhouse. Probably making a litter of shadows, each independent from each other like floaters that cast black cats off the corner of my retina. There is a time when every cat realizes they are a cat and they begin swiping their paws at moving objects to promote dominance in the animal kingdom. My cat couldn’t stand four walls, so much so she found a way to walk through them, promoting dominance over flat inanimate obstacles with courage and precision that was more human than feline. Her eyes never adjusted to her surroundings, her spirit maladjusted to our gray existence. I sit here at my computer letting the world know I am once again king of my own domain but I too could become maladjusted to white walls and work. I am capable of freedom and a farmhouse like my cat who could walk through walls but who could not open doors into other worlds not based in reality. This is a world I swipe at, like moving objects, with courage and precision but it keeps me in my sterile gray apartment another day as a human longing to be with his cat.
Photography by Ahmet Erdem….Turkiye
Francis Erich McElroy 