Last night to this house

I stood up in the little kitchen and staring at the cat calendar, I felt as one of the Sims players, inhibiting a small house.

I thought, this can be as well the last time I am here. I might return who knows, but I might as well not. This might be my last time I am seeing some of the cats. The cats know of course. The cats know everything.

I stood there for a minute and petting a cat, looking at my hands, momentarily embodied, momentarily detached, in first person mostly but also not. It is beyond words and beyond conception the uniqueness of every minute.