Shadowland

Shadow kept me awake
all night.

Meowing at the window.
Sometimes it was more of a
guttural moan.
Scratching the glass.
Running out of the room,
then running back in
like she'd forgotten
something important.

I told her
to shut the hell up.
She looked at me
like I didn't understand
the intricacies
of the feline mind.
Then she threw up
on the floor
and disappeared
into the darkness.

I fell asleep
for eleven minutes.
Maybe twelve.
In the dream,
Shadow was still there,
sitting on the windowsill,
watching something
outside
that I couldn't see.
Was I trapped
in her dream?

The moon looked wrong.
The room tilted.
The clock had stopped
at 3:17
and somehow
kept ticking.
Shadow meowed.
I told her
to shut up.
She scratched
at the window.

I opened my eyes.
She was gone.
Then she was back.
Then gone again.

By morning
I couldn't remember
if I'd slept
or simply spent the night
arguing with a cat
who knew something
I didn't.

Sunlight came through
the blinds.
Shadow curled up
on the bed
and went to sleep.
Of course she did.

I made coffee
and stared out the window.
Everything looked normal.
Which was suspicious.

I sat at the desk
and began
the day's work.
Shadow joined me,
all sprawled out,
gently touching
my right hand
when I moved
the mouse.