The magical cat

I'm blogging today from the Chevy Chase public library; D. shut off Internet access for all of N.W. Washington after catching me in the apartment listings on Craiglist. D. has ties to Verizon, so she is able to do such things in a pinch.

Anyway, I had a very strange dream last night. I was on my bunk, flipping through Time magazines of yesteryear, when suddenly my sister walked in, wearing her tapered jeans and one of many hand-washed cat sweatshirts. Now, D. is known for her swift, unforeseen entrances, so it wasn't her presence that disturbed me. Rather, it was the cat on her shirt, which seemed to sparkle and glow with an eerie, intimidating light.

"D.?" I said. "Is that you?" But before she had a chance to reply, the iridescent cat sprung from D.'s shirt and bolted toward the living room, leaving behind the ill-fitting articles that once clothed my sister but were now merely a heap on the floor. I awoke in a sweat; D. later said I had been tossing and turning all night.

You know, part of me doesn't think this was a dream.