Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Sunday, 12 May 2013
A black cat with a glass eye
Last Friday, I treated myself with fish and chips purchased from the local chips shop. As the wait had been very long, being Friday night and all, the woman at the till gave me two cods, not merely one. I walked back home with my price, stinking of fish, of oil, of malt vinegar and salt. As I was walking in the entrance, a black cat came out of the bushes, looking at me. I wondered if he was not that antisocial black cat I used to see around here from time to time. But I saw he had a glass eye in his left socket, something the other black cat did not have, or not at the time I was seeing him around. He may have lost it afterwards. In any case, I felt quite sad noticing it. It could easily be a different black cat, after all they look alike. This black cat was not one bit antisocial, he rubbed against me with what I could easily identify as a hungry expression. I was tempted to give her a piece of cod. I don't know why I did not.