(via Shintaro Ohata Sculptures Popping Out of Paintings | Best Bookmarks)
Every afternoon, there is that sweet moment of silence and color as the sun would start to sink into it’s starry bed,…and the cat and I would meet. I would always carry a handful of kitty kibble for her and in turn, she would rub her head all over my hand in thanks. Her purrs were rumbles in my mind, a sign of primitive pleasure that no words were ever capable of illustrating. These were precious times for me, the hours when I was away from the noise and stench of my room, the shouts ever louder, especially since That Man came into our lives. But for a space of a mere five minutes, I would slip into the orange world of sunset with my faithful furry companion, and just be me.
