I wrote this little piece one morning after my cat, Magic, woke me up for the third morning in a row yowling at the full moon. Consider it the first of Magic’s Cat Tales. I may write more stories later as inspiration strikes.
Moonlight Serenade
As moonlight spills across her path, she pauses to peer out the window. It’s early morning, so early the sun has yet to rise and won’t for some time. But the moon is crisp, bright, a giant pearl glowing in the dark sky.
She sits down in the silvered puddle of moonlight that traces the outline of the kitchen window across the floor and stares with eyes attuned to the shadows. The light calls her, beckons her to raise her voice and sing.
There are only a few days each month, when the moon is at its fullest and most intense, that the light shimmers and falls across the floor in just this configuration. She loves these early mornings best and wish they’d come more often.
She closes her eyes, basking in the moonglow, then opens her mouth. Her songs carry through the otherwise silent house and cause the others sleeping down the hall to stir. She doesn’t care. The moon—and the moment—are hers.
