The Moon Pool

She came here every night—not for peace, but to survive. The fish that had melted beneath her feet was the only place her cat spoke. Not with language. With her eyes. Those yellow eyes that shone in the dark and told stories no one had heard. Her clothes were the color of dreams she had never seen. Her skin was the color of light dripping from the moon. And her feet—those bare feet—were submerged in the moon water, and each drop that dripped made a star in the terrestrial ocean. The cat knew. She knew too. But neither of them spoke. Because some secrets are only bearable in the silence of the moon water. 1/1 Edition—For those who still talk to their cats