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The kitten bolted as i squealed, like a kitten. Ironic, yet unsurprising. It had walked up the steps and poked its head, tentatively it seemed, into the room through the doorway.

At that moment, i burst into a squeal, and flung my arms out in excitement and welcome. I have not seen that black-nosed kitten again.

A year later, i saw saw two cats roaming the garden those same steps led into. They seemed to be siblings, one had a pink nose and the other had a black patch on its booper.

The cat with the black patch seemed skittish while the cat with pink booper roamed the area with authority. Could the cat with the black patch on its booper be the cat that had fled when arms had been flung?

Black Boop looked in from the window one day while lunch was being devoured. It sat for half-an-hour before disappearing. Pink Boop showed up at the door as i was enjoying a post-lunch haze sprawled in a chair near the door. It waited at the doorway, sat on the mat used to clean feet, licked its right paw, looked at me, licked the other paw, looked at me again, before contorting itself and licking itself all over. It reminded me of people washing their feet before entering the home. I sank back into the laze with the sound of its tongue scratching at its fur a metronome.

An hour later, i went into the kitchen to make a decoction of black coffee and Pink Boop decided to take its first step into the house. One paw in the air, it looked right and left, before moving forward and smelling the floor.

Finally! It explored the area under the sofa and kept close to the walls. As i sank back to the chair with the coffee, Pink Boop slowly left the room and took up its position on the mat.

Boop that Pink Boop.

Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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