Repatriation
When he woke he carried the body of a cat instead of a man. Next to him his cat dreamed it had a human body.
His hands were gray and round and soft. When he saw that he cried. He pulled the latches on a ground floor window, propped it open with a shoe, and fled outside in cat-panic.
He climbed through a window at his brother's house and ran up the stairs. His brother was asleep in bed. They had always been very close. His first thought had been to run to his brother.
He lay down next to the sleeping man. Love billowed through him, but he didn't know if it was a cat's love or a brother's love. He cried some more.
When his brother woke he petted him. Then his brother fed him meat and water and made morning coffee. They talked and watched TV together. When it got dark, his brother drove him home.
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Author's Note
Inspired by Zhuangzi's dream about being a butterfly.
First published in the Subterranean Literary Journal no 1.
Other stories by Berit Ellingsen
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I love zen stories, but not everyone can write them.
You can. I love this.
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This gives a lot to think about, Berit. I love the tone, this story kinda creates its own ambiance. Very creative.
This definitely works for me (Chuang Tzu/Zhuangzi is very inspiring). Having just spoken with my brother -- and although I'm not a cat -- it really resonates. Love the gentle surrealism. Fav.
Berit, gossamer-like, quite zen. Takes me to a wonderful place. fave.
I keep rereading. Wonderful*
Thank you James, Foster, Marc, MaryAnne and Jane, for your kind reading and comments!
I appreciate it a lot.
This is so good. The end line slayed me.
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I'm very happy to hear you liked it, Susan! :) Thank you very much for the comment.
This got to me I suppose because I don't have a brother anymore. Beautiful *
Yes, yes, & yes to the previous comments. Love the idea; love the ending. *
Christopher, I'm sorry to know your loss. Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
Jack, thank you to too as well for reading and commenting. Glad to hear you liked it.
nice. i enjoyed the spareness of the writing and the way the end worked on account of that. well played.
Glad to hear you liked it, Stephen! I have other stories that are less minimalist, but I don't think I will ever be a maximalist. I should try it for the experiment, though.
"His hands were gray and round and soft. When he saw that he cried. He pulled the latches on a ground floor window, propped it open with a shoe, and fled outside in cat-panic."
Kafka with a heart.
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Thank you so much for reading and for the kind and flattering comment. :)
Oh I love this so. Happy to give it number ten.
Thank you so much for the comment, Lou! :) I appreciate it a lot.