1: Glow

I was basking in warm sunshine, sat all but alone on the golden sands of an unknown beach as the glittering, blue sea gently lapped over my toes. "I got your ice-cream," said the voice that I knew better than any other. "I couldn't remember if you wanted a Flake so I got four just in case."

Something tapped my nose. The scene faded to black, tinged with orangey-red. There were another two taps. I prised open an eye and saw my cat readying her paw to tap me again.

"Morning Dog," I said, to let her know that I was awake. She tapped me again anyway. Her name was one of those jokes that seemed hilarious at the time but became less funny each time that I said it. I reached out to scritch her ear and she brushed her whiskers against my hand appreciatively. A small rumbling sound told me that she was purring. Then she tapped me twice more.

"Alright, alright, I get the message," I said, reluctantly pulling back the cover to get up. With just the one eye open, the merest crack, I placed my feet where my slippers always were and put them on before shuffling slowly down stairs. I heard a dull thud as Dog jumped off the bed and cursed her under my breath as she darted straight across my path nearly tripping me.

When I arrived in the kitchen she paced impatiently, alternating between leaning and rubbing against my ankles and standing with her nose pointed toward her food bowl. I needed a cup of tea but, selflessly, I stretched to pull down her packet of kibbles and then dutifully filled her bowl. 

She sat watching avidly, barely giving me enough room to pour the biscuits out of the packet. As I finished, she stepped forward, sniffed twice at the food and then wandered off toward her door leaving it untouched. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was only 5:45 in the morning as the catflap closed behind Dog.

Five minutes later, I stood sipping my tea as I looked out of the window. Dog was sat on the back step no more than a cat's pace from the door.

Next: 2. Fragments