Each Thursday, join me for my once a week practice, Through the Glass Backwards. The title of this series came from my former commute into work, when I took the light rail downtown. Even though I tend to get motion sick easily, I usually ended up facing backwards, watching as the city slipped by. Now that I work from home, these vignettes will be a 200 word glimpse of things I see as the world outside me lives its life, and I am fortunate enough to see, but not necessarily from the light rail window
Walking home after dinner with a friend, our bellies are full of sushi. There is the crunch of leaves under our feet. The air is turning crisp. The clouds still look like they haven’t moved. We know that the storm is coming; bottled water is stocked and our can opener is ready.
But, tonight, as we’re laughing and walking, sticky rice in our tummies and an evening of laughter winding down, we turn the corner by the light brown privacy fence with the blue and white “Vote yes on 6” signs out front. We often see kitties in the yard, or in the front window. As we are walking past, I call out a soft, “Meow.” I am hoping to see the calico cat from earlier today, but knowing that the owners may have brought kitty inside.
But, I see a small figure near the door, watching us. “Meow,” I call again, smiling. It’s the calico kitty from earlier. Primly, she begins walking toward us, stepping down the stone stairs closer to us. She lays down on a stair and begins rolling on her back. We snap a few pictures, our friend rubs the kitty’s belly, and we walk home. “Meow.”