She knew that they called her “the crazy cat lady” and she didn’t care. She had never cared too much for other people; there was too much pettiness in human nature, too much mean spirit. Her cats didn’t whisper about her when her back was turned, and they didn’t point and giggle when she walked by.
She stayed indoors with her cats most of the time. She was happiest there, curled up on the sofa with their purring as a quiet backdrop to the sound of the radio or the television.
She only went out when she had to, to get supplies. She tried to go out at an odd hour, to the 24 hour supermarket that had opened up down the road. She liked the 24 hour supermarket- it meant she could do her shopping in the middle of the night, so she wouldn’t have to stand in a queue with other people all eying her basket and thinking the same thing.
Tinned soup, talcum powder, cat litter and lots of cat food. Crazy cat lady shopping.
She went in the middle of the night so that they wouldn’t stare at the pawprints on her skirt as she walked past.
They called her crazy, but she knew she wasn’t. After all, sprinkling talcum powder all over the floors was the perfect way to keep track of her invisible cats.
© Kari Fay