There is a black cat that sits, or sometimes sleeps, on the steps at the train station. It has shiny fur and only appears at night. At first I thought it was a little spooky but now most nights I come home anticipating the cat. Every time I see the cat I feel glad. I don’t know why.
P.S: Not a good shoot of the cat because I was afraid it would follow me home. I’m pretty sure he/she has an owner.
I have this love-hate relationship with cats. I love their characters and beautiful features. I am intrigued by their unpredictable thoughts. But I feel challenged and threaten by their ability to demand and seek affection. I know it sounds a little bizarre. Maybe I am a cat dressed in human skin.