I stood in the darkened room listening to Maki's purring fill the space like a diesel engine someone forgot to turn off. Two blown lightbulbs. One destroyed pillowcase. Feathers still drifting through the air like the aftermath of a pillow fight in a psych ward.
Not my worst Tuesday.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it before the vibration could wake the sleeping catastrophe buried under my spare blanket.
Three messages. Natalia. Emi. And one from a number I didn't recognize.
Natalia's came first: I heard something blow out in your room. If that cat destroyed my hair straightener I'm going to skin her.
I typed back: Lightbulbs. She sneezed.
Cats don't sneeze hard enough to blow lightbulbs, Satori.
Mine does.
A pause. Then: I'm coming over in twenty minutes. You better not smell like cat.
I smelled entirely like cat. Among other things.
