"Don’t lose hope; for when the sun goes down, the stars come out..."
It’s been a heck of a 48-hour period of my life.
For one thing, I didn’t know that love is also bad for the big toe.
And when it gets hurt, there is no description to the emotions that run through my heart & mind, the shiver that tingles though my spine & the guilt that burns a hole in the soul.
Moving couches would never be the same again.
That’s why they were made such, so that we don’t move them time & again unnecessarily.
If it’s any comfort, it was a good thing that the nearest hypermarket was retailing "the comfort food of all comfort food" at a reasonable enough price that I could afford to stock up.
Maybe it’s true when people say: "Behind every cloud, there is a silver lining."
For everything that happens, there is bound to be a reason behind it.
It could be that the "pigeon" saw the injury & is able to understand the significance of it, because finally, it has agreed to let go & move on.
At last, the Angel could breathe a big heavy sigh of relief.
Needless to say, being ecstatic would be an understatement.
But how could I put on a display of happiness when someone else’s has just ended?
Ironic, isn’t it?
Tell me about it.
But it has to happen in this fashion, because there is not enough pie to go around, somebody is bound to go home hungry.
And in this case, eventhough I was not first in line, I dare say that I have proven to be the more befitting & deserving starved one to be given the final slice.
But it was supposed to be one of the happiest evenings of my life.
That was until I heard the doorbell & found out that cats knew how to use elevators.
The very fact that my sanctuary has been trespassed & its sanctity breached speaks volume of the roller coaster I was experiencing.
And how the heck did Cat-woman manage to infiltrate the security measures taken to keep people out of the Bat-cave still eludes my comprehension.
Of course, we cannot expect cats to understand simple human languages especially when sanity is the last of their virtue at this very moment.
Seeing Angel at the Bat-cave did not help in hitting home reality into the mind of the feline.
Probably that’s what caused the paws to retract to reveal sharp claws & the fangs were on public display.
After almost an hour of verbal wrestling, (or whatever it was supposed to be called), I managed to make the feline leave peacefully, but not without a threat that cats have nine lives & that I have not seen the last of her...
Oh well, we’ll see...
What a waste to an otherwise superb evening.
This is it.
A "New Beginning" that I have been harping on & on about.
But it won’t really take off unless I finish clearing my dumpster of unwanted feline faeces.
Cat litter, anyone?
***Disclaimer: No animals have been hurt in the production of this entry. But if it goes on like this, the author could offer no guarantee...***
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