Could be worse, she says, reaching for a topper.
I've got invisible cats. I wake up in the middle of the night, aware that something has just occured, out of the corner of my unconsciousness. I think to myself, there is a cat on this bed. I reach out my hand, and there is none.
What makes this particularly irksome is the fact that Eleanor, one of the real cats, has a tendency to lurk in my closet or under my dresser until 3 a.m., then come out, and stand next to me, and wait for me to notice her to let her out. So, I always assume it is Eleanor. But she's not there.
CobaltBlue |
