My D&D game was canceled today, so I found myself home at eight. The world was in deep twilight, so I decided to take a walk. I dropped off my bag and gaming gear in the house before turning on the porch light, walking down the steps of the front yard and heading down the street.

As I made my way to the sidewalk a lanky hatted man strolled by, pushing a grocery cart down the street. He was dingily dressed and I couldn't imagine what a neighbor would be doing with a grocery cart, nor could I tell what was in it. I was immediately uncomfortable. Not just because there was a strange man the likes of which I had not seen in this neighborhood. I was stressed, and it weighed upon me. Historically under stress I tend to become somewhat paranoid, and with a recent change in medication I feared my discomfort could be some of the old paranoia returning. I shrugged it off and just kept walking.

I ended up following the odd man. I had no intention of doing so: we were just headed in the same direction. I'll lose him at the next corner, I thought as I went over the usual route in my head. He turned the corner.

I was about six paces behind the man with the basket and the serendipity was becoming awkward. I skipped to the other side of the street to give myself some breathing room. I hate having people directly in front or behind me when I walk. If they're behind, it feels like they're following me and if they're in front, I'm afraid they think I'm following them. As the man with the basket neared the next intersection, I found myself wondering if he was following me as he crossed over to my side of the street. He wasn't, though: he was just turning the corner again.

The intersection was a T-crossroads, and we were coming from the long arm of the T. I usually hocked a right here and went left at the next crossing. The mangy man had also gone right. It occurred to me that sheer probability might have made his route identical to mine. I bet that it wasn't and turned right as well, but made sure I was on the opposite bank of the street. Indeed we were headed to different places, and we parted ways at the next intersection.

As I continued along my path the noises of the city surrounded me. The baritone snarl of some aircraft welled up behind me. Points of light from an airplane glided across the indigo velvet of the horizon. The snarling noise came nearer, and looking up I saw a constellation of three lights adorning the otherwise invisible craft. Probably was a helicopter... or was it a military plane? It was hard to tell. After examining the angles of the lights I concluded it was a helicopter. With so many strange sights and sounds in the city, it is no wonder that some people would mistake them for something more sinister.

A bright light came upon me as a truck hurtled by. As it passed, I spotted a small, dark shape in the glare of its headlights. A living shape. I fixed my eyes on it in case it wasn't a trick of my eyes.

Then I recognized it. "It's a cat!" I cried.

And it was. There, crouched on a bit of concrete off the sidewalk, was a beautiful grey and white cat.

I immediately dropped to my knees, whistling and rubbing my fingers to get the crouching feline to come toward me. This startled the poor thing, and he (or was it she?) ran away from me. I didn't follow. Cats are wonderful creatures, but they're very shy. Not all of them are trusting of humans.

But this cat, instead of running entirely away, plopped down and started rolling on the sidewalk about ten paces from me. I rubbed my fingers again, calling out "Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!" The cat got up and brushed past me, only to drop and roll on the concrete again. We continued this routine, with me calling and the cat brushing past, until she settled down enough for me to scratch her behind the ears.

She was indeed a beautiful cat. What makes me think it might have been a "she" were the calico-esque markings she had. She was mostly white, but had a large patch of smooth grey on her back, a grey tail and a grey cap on her head. As I pet her I found her fur was very soft, but firm and with quite a bit of body. It felt much different than my cat, Twigs, whose fur was soft but sparse. She was also very alert. When someone came by or I made a sudden move, she would take off again, crouch for a while, as if evaluating the situation, then head back toward me. Sometimes she would roll onto her back. I tried to scratch her stomach, but she'd deflect my hand with her feet. For a good several minutes I sat there, playing with the cat.

Eventually I decided it was time to go. I got up, startling the semi-calico, and said goodbye. I walked down the sidewalk and my new feline friend would run in front of me. I came to another street and she turned the corner while I walked across. I turned around once reaching the other side, to see if she would follow me. At first she stayed where she was. I saw another cat—a mangy black one—walk down the street, and I wondered if the two would fight. But the other cat was only interested in the house on the corner. The semi-calico decided to cross the street and meet me on the other side, dropping and rolling about on the ground. I smiled, but continued down the road. I looked back. She wasn't following, just basking on the pavement, apparently very happy. I waved good-bye, even though I knew she wouldn't understand the gesture, and went on my way.

As I walked my mind was filled with thoughts of the cat. I felt lighter, and found myself unable to brood on my load. I was too happy to have met a new, friendly cat in the neighborhood.