Cat on a Roof

[Thunder King]

Saturday August 20th

 

There were certain advantages to catlike mobility. One was solitude, when he needed it. He had his bundled lunch sitting beside him as he sat on the roof, just staring out into the distance.

 

He didn't quite acquire a taste for fish sticks, as they were called. He knew what they were, like sausages made from fish, battered and fried. He ate them, but they weren't the same thing. Even before he was turned into a cat, he had a thing for fish. Fresh fish, caught right from the river or lake, cooked properly. He loved a lot of modern food.  Once he got used to how well seasoned everything was he discovered such a wonderful variety of foods.

 

He let one foot dangle off the roof. He liked sitting up here. Few people would bother him. 

 

One thing he almost missed about being a cat was all the solitude it afforded him. He could socialize if he was inclined, or he could just keep out of reach.  Humans loved a little black cat, but he never let himself get too close. He never had friends.

 

Not before he turned into a cat, not while he was a cat, and not in the nearly two years since he turned back into a human. The faculty encouraged him to see a therapist, and that had been surprisingly helpful. He was trying to let go of his fears. He didn't need to be afraid anymore. He could, maybe, make friends for once. 

 

He ate the last of his fish sticks and took a deep breath. Then, he reached behind him and untied the string he used to keep his ponytail up. He shook his head and let his hair fall to his shoulders. He liked having long hair, even though it got him looks.

 

Let people look, he thought, standing up. He stretched, and looked over what he could see of the campus. He was going to try new things, he thought, meet people, make friends.

 

Then, he jumped off the roof.