Angry Cat's Arc

Chapter 3 of 8

Angry Cat stayed on the post after the paper fell. Mother Cat sat beside him, quiet in the way he needed. The sun moved across the sky. Neither of them spoke. When the light started to fade, something shifted in his chest. He climbed down from the post and walked without a plan. Mother Cat followed at a distance, not asking where they were going. He found himself near a bench he had passed a hundred times before. A rosebush grew beside it, thick with blooms that looked too perfect to be real. He stopped and stared at the petals. The anger was still there, humming under his fur, but for the first time it felt like something he could set down for a moment. He sat on the bench. Mother Cat sat beside him. The silence felt like the other silence, the one he guarded in his memory. But this time it was different because it was his choice. He wanted to say something but did not know what. The words felt too big and too small at the same time. He looked at the roses and noticed one bloom hanging low, almost touching the ground. He reached out with one paw and carefully pulled it free from the stem. The petals were soft against his pad. He turned to Mother Cat and held it out to her. She looked at him with eyes that understood everything he could not say. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. The words came out in a whisper so quiet he almost did not hear them himself. Thank you. Tears came then, hot and fast, but they did not feel like the anger. They felt like something breaking open. Mother Cat touched her nose to his ear and stayed close while he cried. The anger was still there when the tears stopped. It had not disappeared. But now he knew it was not the only thing inside him. He had chosen to sit down. He had chosen to speak. He had chosen to let someone see him break without hissing first. The bench would still be here tomorrow. The roses would still bloom. And he would still be angry. But now he knew he could also be this.