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  • Writer's pictureCrone

Heights and depths

This is Anders on the roof of the conservatory. I had turned on the heater to sit out there and work. He placed himself immediately above the radiator, surely able to feel the warmth most keenly at that point.

He walked across the roof and again it struck me that his movement seems stiff, stochastic rather than smooth and even. It was a cold day, though sunny and I was glad for his thick coat. I left the heater on when I'd finished what I wanted to do, but he left not long afterwards.

My cats heard him walking and perched on the art table staring up, making the chirruping mews that cats use when they want to catch something exciting, a mouse or a bird. Silly to alert the creature to your presence. I guess that talkative indoor Siamese get carried away with their vocalisations. He either did not hear or did not care.

Anders still eats the food I leave for him. Doesn't always finish it. So I guess he has other sources either from houses or from catching mouses. But every time I see him, I'm struck by his strange gait. Oh, and by the falling temperature.

I feel pain so personal and so intense.

When not worrying about him, I'm worrying about my essay. I will have seen the supervisor by the time this is posted - so expect some kind of response to that meeting a few days later. I'm not looking forward to it. I feel lost. I looked at the other questions, but, no. I have thought of different approaches, but all feel weak and pathetic. Saying nothing. Arguing nothing.

I don't know how to climb. But, I guess, at least Anders does.

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