Day 2

Good morning to all mice! It was actually 1 AM, the right time to wake up in the city that never sleeps. It never sleeps, but sometimes it is quiet as in a cathedral on Monday in the corridor. Oh, I heard something from the upper floor. Yes, it was a flute, what magical music! Someone was playing “The shepherd and his 300 sheep” divinely beautifully.

“Come on, black sheep person, play for us with the sound of paradise,” I thought. Oh, even the door was open. Among the dim light, a young, beautiful girl was playing the pan flute with her eyes closed. She was wearing a thin white dress with sleeves. Next to her, sunk deep in an armchair, an elderly gentleman was sitting dressed in a white suit and listened to her with the look of deep emotion on his face. Oh-la-la, I saw the noses of 3 gray mice to the right, what a surprise.  They had also come to the concert, the poor things, the last one in their lives. That’s what I call a royal breakfast at a concert. Now, let’s get ready to jump. You, my sweet donuts, just keep listening to the music…

“It’s time to go!” the gentleman cut through the silence heavily with a base-heavy voice. Ah, you old pervert and ugly owl! You put the end to my feast – frightened of the old boar, the mice disappeared in their hole. Fuck him in all holes! Hungry and angry I decided to follow them for revenge. That is what we cats do!

The white hog took the lady by the hand and the two went out with quiet steps. I slipped after them like an invisible shadow. It was still dark on the street. Very cold too. They walked silently and solemnly, like at a parade. While crossing Central Park, many spirits began to follow them. Too many ghosts! The couple in white did not see them, but I saw them. My cat intuition told me that something was wrong.

The two people, accompanied by about 70 spirits, turned onto Manhattan Bridge. The February wind was trying to stop this white fellowship but failed. The group walked until the middle of the bridge and stopped. The girl and the gentleman turned right and walked to the railing. The horror! They wanted to jump from the bridge! I no longer hated them, I wanted to save them. Although for me they were not as valuable as mice, however…

Life is chaos, but art is order. It was time for action, time for my performance. I jumped on the railing and went by, right in front of them.

“Oh, no, I can’t do it! A black cat crossed our path,” said the girl and added, “That brings bad luck.”

“Bullshit!” hissed the fat python, “We’ll die together. We have decided it.”

The girl’s eyes shone more powerfully than mine.

“Hey, moron, who told you that death is a misfortune?” she cried out loudly.

”Oh, what a surly tongue! You do not talk that way when we met ”- stocky man said quietly.

”We met on Facebook. You there several times lied to me!” – respond woman anxiously and added  – ”I needed someone to accompany me in my last road.. I invited you to my house, I played the flute for you and wanted to quietly flew to my star …But Satan still needs me here…

The fat man said angrily: ”You call me Satan, you dirty bitch and fanatical loser. You of any star will not go. Who lied to you about it?Your body will feed the fish first and then you will find rest in black, police heard. Ha-ha-ha!”

The woman looked at him with unseeing eyes, then looked at me, shivered from the cold and walked quickly back. I waved a few times with my tail and followed her. We cats hate bridges. We cats love music and I do not have any mistress lately…

Morning already punching dark, cold clouds. Some people delivery noisy tows of newspapers. Police car flew with lighted lamps on the roof. A odious Arab fussing around his gyros. Various crazy people running with headphones and hats on their heads. Several bearded homeless folding the boxes in which they slept. Good morning,Big Apple!

Day 1

I live in New York. I was born a black cat. My birth date, pedigree, and father are unknown. I have green eyes. One middle-aged woman with a thick face and greasy hair stroked my fur and took me in her house. From that moment on I was her pet. Oh what a wonderful childhood I had; everything was tip-top. My mistress, Mrs. Huffington, lived in a large, expensive apartment which had a myriad of secret hiding places. Our favorite game used to be hide and seek. Of course, I was always the winner. Say, gentle reader, have you ever tried to find a cat who does not want to be found?

But all of this is in the distant past already… I grew up; I am big, strong, and smart now, but I no longer hide because no one is looking for me anymore. Recently, Mrs. Huffington became too busy with her fucking obnoxious flashing screen. In the morning she used to get up from her bed and immediately stand in front of the color screen. Stupid woman; everything on that screen was beautiful and delicious, but was only painted.

My mistress not only had me baffled but she openly started hating me too. She hated me because I stood in my corner and silently watched her. Early in the morning, sleepy, wearing no makeup, smelling like me in May, she dragged herself around the huge living room, looking for something, and cursing like a Russian sailor. Sadly, it was a horrible spectacle! If men knew how women spend their time when they are alone they’d never marry them. One day Mrs. Huffington opened the door and hissed something at me in an unknown language. Okay, I understood, stupid cow…

Now I am lonely outside on the street, but I like it. Nobody loves me; all shun me. I wonder why. I am so beautiful and clean; I wash myself 8 times a day with my tongue. I have a natural, shiny, fluffy fur. I am so fine, sweet, and graceful…

Outside is cold and the February days are still short. I’m not very hungry, but I will go out on the street for a little walk. Now I live everywhere and nowhere. My home is the whole city. Of course, I try to avoid the metallic, nasty downtown. I hate crowds of boring, smelly people. I also hate their colorful boxes in which they rush back and forth. What are they in such a hurry for?

My Manhattan!  Here, I am in an area that I know so well.  How many Saturdays has my lady master walked me here, or rather I have walked her. We were looking for a suitable male for her, ha ha, I know!  She, the poor thing, does not know how to attract male cats. She is missing one important element – an alluring tail…  In my cat society, her vagina would always be covered by a spider web.

Oh, there’s a new poster for some Vietnamese restaurant out there.  It is so dreadful!  A bowlegged dog with its owner, a tall, thin, grinning black man, in front of a large, white house.  Why is there a fork sticking out of the back of the dog?  Asian assholes!  Actually, my mistress once stabbed me with a fork in the back too.  During a dinner at home, when they were at the table, a gentleman sitting next to Mrs. Huffington slid his hand under her skirt.  I intercepted this enemy who was attempting such a violation; I jumped and dug my claws into his impure flesh.  Shocking and dreadful!  After a terrible scream from the offender, instead of receiving praise I got stabbed violently in the back with a fork. Bitch! I’ll never forgive her! Never!

Men look at me, wide-eyed, with their stupid faces. They are so primitive and weak. I have to hide somewhere and wait for the darkness. That is my favorite time. In the dark I begin to see everything – both the living and the spirits of the dead. During the nightly walks with my mistress through Central Park I often saw the white spirit of a tall, thin, stooped man with small, round glasses. He smiled, nodded his head and shouted something, but neither Mrs. Huffington nor anyone else could hear or see him. I imagine that he wanted to say something important. Unfortunately, only cats could hear what he said.

Now I need to trick this oily doorman and slip into this guarded building.  Ho-o-p!  Yes, I’m in!  Now I’ll find something delicious to eat – a mouse, a parrot, a canary, a hamster, or fish… Or something which sucks – like the sandwich which has been prepared by the wife of the guard.

Pur-r-r-r-r-r-r! I found a warm and cozy place for myself. My back feels nice in the warm air. Now I will sleep. Good night, ghosts and rolls of fat.