Where Is My Cat !

‘ Look at me ‘ said the full moon, - ‘ no moths circle my light though they circle the lamp above you ! If you are patient for a while I shall move a little - round the corner, along the gully where the mouse hugs the wall, follow it to the drain where Pushkin waits, contrary to his predilection. Sheet his black, stalking form to portray him as the monster that he is pouncing to prevent life, - life my light would dim and die for ; do you see him now, running to you having cleared beyond your sight the lowly life that feeds upon your waste, ready to be fondled now for his nature ; I will see you both tomorrow night - phasing out ‘.