When I finally got up and got out to the plant space away from my dwelling facility this morning, the wind was practicing short sprints against the hillside as the sun watched and smiled. I walked and watched the earth blush and glow, sweet whispers from the deep blue above affecting its appearance. Here and there the dogkeepers and wheeled warriors trolled up and down the whiskery hills. I breathed in the cleanness and, at the end, needing to empty my fluid waste chamber, walked spritely back to my carriage.

In the blue-gray of my resting hall, I watched the throwers and the hitters move the ball around the giant grass park through the movie box until my eyes faltered and the black cradled me for a solemn session. When I recovered my mental awareness, I fought to keep up with the activities on the movie box until my thoughts returned and the blue group, my adopted set of ball movers, defeated the opponent.

Early evening, my kind progenitors spoke to me on the sound brick and asked me to join them for meat and cheese filled fried tortillas. I collected with them in the yellow orange of the post-afternoon light in the food sanctuary of their dwelling facility, where we articulated and filled ourselves with the spice-bearing delights. My heart and my stomach were both filled with warmth and I was moody with gratitude when I left them.

This evening I am home surrounded by silence and wonder if the universe has blinked and I do not really exist. The cloth cleaning machine chatters in the garage in a reserved iambic drone, while water dripping through the pipe works in the kitchen asks whiny neurotic questions in petulant garbles and gargles.

Did you get the cats because you were a cat person, or are you a dog person anyways?
I got the cats so would I have something living to hug each day.