What the hell is that?

It looks like a tiny blanket.

What kind of creature is supposed to sleep with that thing?

I hope they don’t expect me to sleep on it.

Maybe I should check.

It’s not fluffy.

I don’t get it.

Blankets aren’t squares.

Blankets don’t go in the kitchen.

I can try to use it, I guess.

I could use my bed, but this little red piece of fabric will do for now.

It’s on the floor, anyway.

The floor is my territory.

They know that.

What if it's not a blanket?

What else do humans use fabric for...?

Wait.

My bed is made of fabric.

Did they...?

No.

They couldn't have.

They wouldn't.

I hope they didn’t get rid of my bed.

That wouldn’t do at all.

Maybe they left this out for me to see if I liked it.

But did it have to be red?

I prefer blue, silly humans.

While I'm here, I might as well do something with it.

My bed is on the other side of the house.

That is, if my bed is still here.

Hmm....

I’ll take a nap, maybe it’ll show them I’m trying my new bed.

At least, I hope it’s for me. (It’s mine now anyway.)

If they left it out, surely they meant for me to find it.

If it's not meant for me, it's too late now.

Maybe they'll learn not to leave things out.

Anyway...

Cat nap time.

Goodnight.

...

.....

.......

“Why is the cat sleeping on top of a washcloth in the middle of the kitchen floor..?”

Hearts house many things

Not all are fluffy dreams.

Some are the darkest beings

Demons dressed as sheep.

They dwell in broken children

Crying into the night.

Answering prayers for vengeance

Their darkness can only spread.

Bullies' words are their weapons

Weighted like sharp boulders.

Lashing out in violence

These demons scar another's life.

The blackest of evils

help those who cannot rise

Not with encouragement

But knives dressed as lies.

Sharpened by daily suffering

They seek out their vicious prey.

If only kind words were cheap

They might help save a life.

But hey, we're only human

And we all live in various strife.

I have met a goddess.

Can you claim the same?

She danced, once, in rivers and swayed to a rhythm that

Only she could name.

I have met a goddess

Who, with her heav’nly sight,

Could beckon the raging of stormfronts to cease, that the

Sun might share its light.

I have met a goddess.

Distant was her gaze,

And so far removed from the vices of man that she

Could not run away.

I have met a goddess

Once only, long ago;

Then deities learned not to venture so near, and she…

Well.

She was the last to know.

And now we come near to the edge

Where once the princes sailed...

Ahoy! A ripple in the blue,

Where dragons’ wings have trailed!

With waves below and stars above,

We hang between the deeps—

Charybdis ever hungers here,

And Scylla never sleeps.

Yet as we gaze with hoping eyes

Upon that mirror blank,

Those hoping eyes stare lonesome back,

Their fires slowly banked.

The only heroes to be seen

Are by the starlight made—

’Til morning comes without remorse

To bid the heroes fade.

Now this we ask: where have they gone?

For surely there must be

A ship that sails straight out of myth

Upon so vast a sea!

But we could sail for all our days

And ne’er a siren see—

While once upon a time there were,

No dragons here there be.