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Of Cats & Fog

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I saw the Ouija Cat as I passed a shop in Port Townsend; a place where strange & unusual are as common as the early morning fog that hangs in a shroud over its streets.

A question for the cat passed through my mind, but then my eyes were drawn elsewhere.
As I moved on to explore the next distraction, I thought I heard a scrape of claws and for a moment, I swore I saw the cat’s tail flick to the side and spell out an answer.
“Right,” I thought. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

Everything went well that day, and I was glad to have found an answer to a most vexing question.
But as I took the ferry back to the island where I live, and gazed into the blue deeps, the answer, along with the question, vanished into the mist that rolled in and obscured the water.

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