For the last ten years I’ve spent my summer holidays at the seaside, renting a room from an old landlady whom I call
auntie Jackie. This year too we made an appointment for the first week of September. Just before leaving, I find out
that aunt Jackie has suddenly died from a stroke. Now, here we are, auntie’s cat, and me alone in the house.
a meowing leads me
from the threshold
Coming down the stairs in the morning I find myself thinking that Jackie is waiting for me with a cup of coffee. When
I return from the seaside I feel for a moment that she will invite me for her famous tomato soup. At night I hear her
footsteps on the stairs but it is only the light patter of cat feet, heading for my bed...
When the day of my departure comes the cat stares at me with her tail posed in a question mark. I do not know what to
say to her.
in the folds of the sheer curtain
a fluttering moth