Tuesday it rained hard. I cried off and off all morning, stuck in a hollow, unexplainable ache. I sat on the building steps, watching rain pour down the gutter.
A soaking-wet gray cat wandered over. Instead of passing by, it settled quietly beside my foot and groomed itself.
We stayed motionless in the rain for twenty minutes, both drenched and silent. When the rain eased, the cat glanced at me, shook off the water, and left—wanting nothing from me.
I went inside for tea. That quiet company from a stranger cat eased my loneliness. It fixed nothing, yet let me feel I was truly seen.