“Holy s@#t! What the hell?” Silas
rubbed the back of his head where he had slammed it against the wall.
“You act like you've never seen a cat
before.”
“Not on in a mirror, and certainly
not one that talks!”
The tabby stepped forward through the
mirror, the surface of the glass rippling like water as it passed
through.
“Better now?”
“Halfway,” Silas responded, not
looking at the cat as he tried to twist around to see the back of his
head.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out what is causing
me to hallucinate you.”
“I'm not a hallucination.”
“Which is exactly something a
hallucination would say.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why is that something a
hallucination would say, exactly?”
“I don't know. Maybe being not real
gives you low self-esteem and you want to try and reaffirm your
non-existence by stating it?”
Silas gave up trying to see the back of
his head and just felt it instead. There was some tenderness, but
nothing that felt critical. So why was he seeing things?
“I assure you I'm not trying to
alleviate any self-worth issues. Also you saw me before you bumped
your head.”
“That does lend a bit of credence to
your non-hallucinatory argument.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You're welcome.”
“So you believe me now?”
“That or I'm dreaming, either one
works for me cause I need the sleep.”
“Frankly, either works for me as
well. Now please come with me.”
“Where to?”
“You wouldn't believe me if I told
you.”
“I'm believing a talking cat.”
“Quite commendable of you.”
Silas opened the door and followed the
cat down the hallway, down past the front offices and into the
conference room, right to a door in the back labeled “Supply”.
“I wouldn't believe a supply closet?”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
The tabby jumped up, grabbing the
handle and pulling the door open.
