today I found a black whisker in the feline detritus covering the floor of my apartment. I think I keep up, but there are corners I may never reach...
I started looslely entertwining the black whisker with a white one I found nearby, thinking it was symbolic of Ms Kitty and Mite coming together and then I realized... Ms Kitty has white whiskers, too.
The black whisker was from Loafie, some 15 months departed.
I was down on Loafie while he was alive, because he was mean to Mite and to visitors. But occasionally, usually in the dark of night, Loafie would have a few minutes of pure kindness and jump on me and purr and love on me... and, now, that's all I can really picture him doing. I'm aware that I once knew him to be a little bastard, but I can't picture those moments. All I remember is the second to last night he spent at home, when he jumped on my chest and purred and purred... and all that love is gone.
Some people find god(s) in the love they find in the world. If I hadn't already found it in reason, I'd've found non-god in all the love that dies so that hate can live in the world.