Kipilefti

Back from town, break is like an unbroken string of Saturdays, leisurely and pleasant and at times dauntingly empty. It’s early afternoon on Friday and I’m back in bed, sitting up and reading. A cat curls up by my feet adorably, and I obligingly adore him. I’m a fool for my cats: they wake me at six, demanding breakfast; they wake me at eight, demanding attention; they whine and fuss and make messes and destroy things, but I still love them unreservedly because I know that without them, I would have gone home long ago.