Aristotle Loved the Night
Standing next to my legs, Aristotle charmed me with his eyes. “Meow!”
Night had overtaken Cinnabar but it wasn't the dark that gave him the ability to see me. One of the laws of the universe did.
I patted him on the head and felt his soft purring. We watched the almost stillborn street in front of us with unrelenting peace. Aristotle loved the night, I could tell. He let out another meow before darting off to get across the street, oblivious to a speeding Ferrari driven by one of the kindhearted gentlemen who saw him today.
My reaping continued.