Cats I Met in NOLA

Two weekends ago (11/1-11/4), my family and I went to New Orleans to celebrate my godfather’s 50th birthday. My godparents lived in New Orleans for most of their life, but recently moved to Connecticut because my godfather got a job opportunity there. New Orleans is a second home for both my family and my god-family, so we decided to meet there for the celebration. Similarly, my godfather has a bunch of friends in NOLA who wanted to watch the Sunday Saints game and celebrate with their friend. 

I love New Orleans. It’s become my safe haven over the years. My favorite thing to do is stay up till midnight and walk through the art districts of the French Quarter with my mom. This weekend, we explored a lot, did some shopping, and ate some good food. I visited some of my favorite stores, found new favorites, and generally had an amazing time. On Sunday morning, I decided to wake up early and take a walk around the city. I stayed close to the neighborhoods rather than going into any shops. I met quite a few cats in the neighborhoods I walked through, and I wanted to share them with you today. (I will also be giving them names)

(Name: Whisp) This little fella was the first cat I met. They were not interested in me by any means. They looked very clean and sweet, possibly because they belonged to someone. They also stayed close to the house you can see in the background. They were very pretty and they let me sit a good six feet away and talk to them. I love their little white glove paws the most. I wish this photo was better quality because you could see how beautiful their eyes were. Just all around a very striking cat that I would’ve liked to get to know better.

(Name: Myrtle) This was the second cat I met. She was on the sidewalk across the street and I had to run across to go greet her. She was nervous about the passing cars, but she seemed somewhat interested in what I was doing. I went down on her level and she walked somewhat close to me, but wouldn’t get within arms reach. Rather than walk past me, she walked through the fence near us to get around me. When I got too close, she sat down on the fence in the way she is in the picture. She sat there for a while until I realized that she was waiting for me to leave so she could walk away without me following. I was embarrassed that I bothered her and ran away pretty quickly after that. 

(Name: Big Pete) This fella was the last cat I met on my walk. I was minding my own business and I saw an orange ball, curled up on the trash can lid. When I got close, I realized it was a cat. I made a little clicking noise with my mouth and he slowly woke up to greet me. He got close enough to smell my hand and let me pet him just a bit. Other than that, he just wanted to clean himself and stretch. He was much more social than the other cats I met that day though.

Thank you for reading, please let me know which cat was your favorite and what would you name them?

Icarus and the Sun, Pt. 1

“Icarus and the Sun, Pt. 1”

Based on the art of Gabriel Picolo

He met her at the darkest hour,
and even in her flickering light,
she was brighter than any fire.
“Why are you here?” asked Icarus.
“To think,” said the sun.
“About what?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m troubled, too. Take a seat.”

He let her into his heart
the way she let the moon takes her place
—slowly, quietly, while he was sleeping.
Curled against her, her hair hot against his chest,
his arms cocooned around her flames
and their fingers locked together in a searing hold.

Sometimes he melted too much to handle, and he crept away in the quiet.
She dimmed without him.

It took longer for her to do the same.
She’d said, “Let me in.”
He’d asked, “Can I?”
For forever, it seemed, she had her back to him,
too busy in her own starless world,
in her memories and the black hole in her chest.
She finally turned around,
and her world twinkled once more.

She was a rose-tinted mirror.
In her presence, she mended him.
She turned his bare roots into wings
and his marks into wax.
He told her once.
“I’ve got scars that can’t be seen.”
She shook her head and kissed his cheek
and the wax melted.

They had doubts.

Once, when she felt calm enough not to burn,
he let her into the greenhouse.
She saw the words written on the short, prickly things.
Lifting “Puzzled” into her hands, she asked.
“My own fears and demons,” said Icarus.
“I get acquainted with them.”
He showed her a few.
“Lonely”—introspective, but likes new things.
“Anxious”—not talkative, but sincere when needed.
“Overthinker”—an asshole.
He did not show her the one tucked in the corner.
“Love”—never watered.

Once, as they walked through the darkest hour,
the sun said, “You don’t want me.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll hurt you.”
She told him how they’d travel over flatlands to distant hills,
to chase the moon.
He thought that was stupid.
He loved it
and ignored her unspoken plea.
“Don’t get too close to me. I’ll burn you.”