christopher

I think Lucy, my cat, has a crush on me.

Every time I pet her, she licks my hand and bites it very softly. She then looks surprised at herself and runs away in a way that says, "I shant!" I think I'm in a weird feline version of Wuthering Heights.

Also, writing a story about going to a seminar to learn how to speak with the same diction and cadence as Maya Angelou. And it's being led by a bony white woman covered in long metal necklaces and rings on every finger. Her accentuated movements are obscured by her crepe paper dress. Her demeanor can only be described as "vaguely spidery."