The Cat.

I couldn't believe it, it was awful... That scream of hers... like something out of a horror movie. She loved that twisted cat more than she ever loved me. I kept seeing her hysterical image in my mind. That mad laughter, her mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust, her wrinkled neckline, its ugliness accentuated by the streetlight... God, why did she never tie that damned robe... I was afraid of her. Her and that Satan's footstool... That animalistic embodiment of evil... I was afraid of her cat. How many times, whenever she left me alone with him, all the malice in the world came out of him. He would pee on my report I'd been working on all night, rip my guts out of my favorite armchair, chew through my computer cables, and I have no idea how he managed to drown my cell phone in the toilet. I remember the lid being closed... I always close the lid... He should have been put down. Or better yet, no… he should be burned. Him and that witch who had turned my life into hell.

It was stuffy, humid. I felt my thoughts becoming increasingly scattered. I hoped that as soon as I reached the bar and had a cold beer, I would regain my composure. I picked up the pace, unable to bear the thought of abandoning all my beloved possessions to her. In my mind's eye, I saw her, her hair flowing, tangled, dancing on the ashes of my life's work. I wiped away the sweat dripping from my forehead. My mouth was a desert, and when I ran my tongue across my lips, it hurt. When I tried to light a cigarette, my hands shook so violently that the flame danced for a long time before allowing me the first, relieving inhale of smoke. I cleared my throat and stood for a moment. It was 10:32 PM, according to the clock on City Hall. And the city was deserted. Somewhere in the distance, the rumble of an engine roared. Forget it. Get a grip. What had she done to me? I was losing my mind! Let this damn rain fall already. It hung in the air, choking me, condensing on my back… A last puff of smoke caressed my lungs, and I tossed the cigarette butt into the drain. It was all over, I walked slowly toward the building looming on the corner. My haven, my watering hole. Everything was returning to normal. A storm was brewing; it was midweek, and therefore empty. From the city center came the whine of an ambulance and the hum of the last trams. And I was already in the safety of a neon light. Everything was okay. A sudden meow, coming from somewhere near the dumpster, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I didn't turn around, I just entered the room. Empty. Soft music flowed from the radio, the air conditioning cleared the air, and familiar eyes lazily watched me from behind the bar. I took a deep breath and sat down at the bar.

"One..." I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and gazed with delight at the yellow, cheerfully foaming liquid.

"Rough day, huh?" The bartender tried to be friendly, but he didn't seem to feel like talking. His shirt was rumpled and his face was unshaven. He looked tired, so I just nodded. He understood, because he went back to wiping the glasses. I was getting sleepy, and the beer was disappearing quickly. I tapped my empty glass on the bar counter. The bartender, confused, looked at me… For a moment, I thought he looked a bit different… Something about his appearance unsettled me, but the next glass placed in front of me quickly dispelled my unsettling thoughts. The first drops of water started to splash against the glass… I felt very pleasant and sleepy… I wasn't going home today… I didn't really see any reason to ever go back. I'd given that tramp the best years of my life, and now I was going crazy. I couldn't take it anymore. Her constant complaints, her whining, which she regaled me with every day. She was probably worse than Satan himself. At least you could reach an understanding with him. Sign a contract without thinking, but with her... There was no way to deal with her. She could entrap you, then instantly corner you and brainwash you... I understand now why her father died in a psychiatric hospital and her nanny committed suicide. But I was too smart for that. And I loved life too much...

"Another one, please..." The beer was kind today, and my head was wrapped in a safe cocoon of anesthesia... The bartender seemed so funny to me. I think he felt cold, because he stood with his back to me, wearing a velvet jacket. He looked ridiculous in it... He moved so softly... I smiled and snorted. The bartender looked at me from under his mustache... Wait a minute... since when has he had a mustache?

"You've grown so much," I said with admiration. He didn't answer, just started pouring another mug. His arms were terribly hairy. And his nails were long... I looked at his face with concern.

I laughed out loud. How could I have been so wrong? He's not my bartender. They must have changed, and I didn't even notice when...

"What's so funny?" he asked in a strange, high-pitched voice. I burst into even more laughter. I couldn't control myself. And he was looking at me, somehow familiar... A shiver ran through me. I knew who he reminded me of... It sobered me up and brought back that paranoid fear...

"Don't be afraid of me, I think I've had too much to drink... I should go home...

" "Should I be afraid of you?" "Oh fuck," the guy meowed... I gripped the edge of the bar to keep from falling off the stool. The bartender leaned toward me and looked deep into my eyes... His eyes were so cat-like, slit-like...

"Are you feeling all right?" You've turned pale. The bastard smiled, baring two snow-white fangs, and from behind him a tail, a cat's tail, waved softly at me... It was too much. I jumped up, tripped over my own feet, and fell flat... I didn't wait for this freak of my sick imagination to dig its claws and teeth into my back. Somehow I crawled to the door, gasping, and scrambled to my feet, running out of the bar, straight under the wheels of a speeding car. I heard a dull thud and the squeal of brakes, felt the chill of the rain, and in a flash of lightning, I saw the terrified bartender, my friend, standing at the edge of the sidewalk. I smiled to myself… I wasn't going crazy, I just imagined it… Out of the corner of my eye, I followed a trickle of red, blurred by the rain… I was losing consciousness, I looked gratefully at the bartender again, but instead, a soaked cat stood on the sidewalk. Not black and malicious, but merely a red, pathetic alley cat…