In the Dark of the NIght

I got home late last night from Nashville, Tennessee, and I couldn't fall asleep. I don't know why or when it happened, but I remember standing in the middle of a small intersection of a dark downtown, and there was a large cat that coalesced from the shadows. He was at least a pace long, and his face was larger than that of a normal cat. His body was fluffy and furry and stuck out all around him like a dirigible in grays and whites and not one hair was out of place. He looked to me to be wise and very honorable, and he stood there, his tail raising only a little, but not twitching in curiosity or agitaiton. He looked at me and waited for my response, as many cats do.

A man and a boy came beside me, and looked at the cat, and as the boy tried to reach out to it, the man took his hand and calmly crossed the street, bending down to him in the way that fathers do, and said, "Don't bother it; come along." And I wondered if he was talking to me, though he never looked my way. I looked at the Cat again, ignoring what the man's advice, and set my shoulders. I bowed to the Cat, a deep low bow and gave it respect, and honor, and stood, feeling very tired and heavy.

The Feline was joined by two smaller cats, one white and orange in the same even blend, and the other black and gray, and the three walked around me as I stood there, held still as though cemented to the street. As the old Cat passed to my backside, I felt as though I couldn't stand up any longer, and exhaled, rocking backward. I gave in and decided I might as well just collapse, and that's what I did. As I fell backward, I felt heavier and heavier, and fell slower and slower, until I thought I surely must have hit the ground, but beyond the ground, a few feet down, I came to rest so gently on the pillow-top mattress in my parent's guest bedroom, and sank down into it, all my muscles going limp and weighted as though a heavy presence were on my body.

I felt exhausted, yet I was awake, and aware of my surroundings and what was happening to my body. What intersection had I been in that had been so cold and quiet, where cobblestones paved the road and one lone lamp lit the corner beside me, and buildings stood as silent darkened sentinel witnesses? Where had that man and that child come from and gone, and why hadn't I listened to him? Who was the wise old Cat, and what did he want with me? Was he still there with me? Was it a sign, or a spirit?

These thoughts floated through my head like autumnal leaves fresh landed atop a cold brook, and though they posed some form of conscious recognition of what had just taken place, I paid them no more heed than the time it took them to float away from me. I opened my eyes and looked around, wondering if I'd see the wizened old Beast in human form watching me, waiting to speak to me; or perhaps the man would be there, contemplating me and my decision, yet neither were, and I only found the pale walls and rotating fan of the starkly furnished room.

I spent a lot of time trying to pass on into sleep again, and when I finally did, several hours had passed. I knew nothing of what I dreamt later, or if I dreamed at all. I feel now that something is to be taken from that message, from that brief encounter with something far beyond my grasp, yet thoroughly within the bounds of my ever-expanding comprehension. Only, I know not what.