I popped out my contact lenses before bed. It took a few moments to realize my eyeglasses were in the car, so I pulled on a pair of shoes and gingerly made my way out of the apartment and down the flight of stairs to the parking lot in order to retrieve them. It’s a strange and indistinct world with natural vision, but I somehow made it safely down and into the lot. As I neared my car I saw a white cat sitting just past where I was parked so I bent down (as you do) and tried coaxing it to me. It ignored me.
Vexed that it wasn’t responding, I inched closer and closer to the cat, calling out. I moved slowly so I wouldn’t spook it, murmuring quietly to it. “Here kitty, c’mere puss.” Nothing. At least it didn’t take off running, I thought. I moved closer and by this time I’d reached the trunk of my car. The aloof cat came into focus. Still blurry, but its outline clear enough for me to see. The standoffish white striped cat I’d been cajoling for an embarrassing length of time was a recently repainted parking stripe.
