Cat

9.30 in the evening and it is raining heavily in the city. My cat's head has emerged from under the armchair. I watch her stretch and yawn. The night has become quite cold, and I haven't turned off the fan yet. She walks up to my chair, regards me with her honey-coloured eyes a while and then she leaps into my lap. Circle, circle, settle.

Now I have a warm, purring cat on my lap and it is pouring outside. 

It probably doesn't get better than this.

 

'..."what is there in this world that truly makes living worthwhile?" Death thought about it. CATS, he said eventually. CATS ARE NICE.'

Opportunity

 "Whenever I get ready to write really sincere notes in this notebook, I shall have to undertake such a disentangling in my cluttered brain that, to stir up all that dust, I am waiting for a series of vast empty hours, [...] a convalescence, during which my constantly reawakened curiosities will be at rest; during which my sole care will be to rediscover myself."

 

Well, now is the time, the perfect opportunity of a convalescence has presented itself.