by Chris Damm (Exchange student from the University of California) In the lonely hours before dawn, when the darkness of night turns into the patchy grayness of a new day, a haunting sound can be heard echoing down the hallway of the First Floor of Men’s Dorm #8. It is the mournful cry of a creature remembering the days when it ran free, a master of back alley garbage cans and empty fields. Now the cat who walks between floors is a king in exile, consigned to a labyrinth of dark crawl spaces and steamy pipes. I first noticed the cat who walks between floors when I was brushing my teeth late at night. I heard his stealthy footsteps patter on the ceiling tiles above, as he stalked some tasty small animal. At first I thought that a huge rat must have taken residence up there, but a few nights later, I heard the distinctive sound of a cat yawning. Thinking the cat was stuck, I donned my caving helmet with its attached headlamp and pulled myself up into the ceiling for a look. I was greeted by a pair of wild eyes, a mouth full of sharp teeth, and a frenzied hiss, that passed on a clear message that I was an unwanted trespasser in a cat’s lair. So with a nod of apology towards the king of damp corridors, I lowered myself back down to the floor.
Occasionally I still hear soft footfalls dance across the roof of the bathroom, and at times I’ve left tribute to the silent hunter in the form of slices of meat or a rack of white fishballs on a stick. As for the cat itself, it appears that its exile will last until it gets hungry enough or builds up enough courage to make the easy jump down to the window, and off into freedom. a
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May 2024
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