I sat in the window today, the sun tickled my nose.

I brushed Violet’s fur today. She purred softly, and I pretended not to cry.

I tripped over a ribbon. It tied itself to my tail.

My fur brushed velvet today. It whispered: remember me and I know I will.

Shadows hum lullabies if you listen long enough.

My whiskers are perfect. They told me so.

The sunlight caught a dust mote. I swore it was a fairy.

Everyone forgets their mittens. I keep track of them.

I sketched a dress that looked like clouds then I stitched it together.

I climbed the tallest chair and declared myself king.

When I pounced too far, the rug slid across the floor. Best ride ever.

Lollie thought about it. Maybe rules weren’t cages—they were stepping-stones. And maybe her swirls could wait until she’d learned the steps.

No one expected much from the shabby old house at the edge of town, but inside lived twelve kittens who never thought of their life as shabby at all.