Just as the sleek gray tom plays with the spiders he stalks before he kills them, I know she could be a cold blooded murderess if she chose. I know because her eyes were blue this morning, as icy as the biting tone of voice she used when she commanded me to leave. Yes, she is a queen and she knows it which is why she sleeps all day in the sun. And at night she is beautiful as she paces in her black dress. Lovely she is, and mysterious, as she lazily drapes her arms around the boy of her choice. She is a solitary woman, prowling the halls until she finds me. She opens her green eyes wide as she tells me she loves me and purrs her request to be driven somewhere and adores me until I canít stand it and so must refuse. And I am helpless as she slashes out at me, her blue slits flashing I hate you as she stalks away in fury.

7 October 1996