Sundays are for wondering why the neighbour’s cat is mad at you. I thought we were getting along well – I’ve been letting her into the block regularly, and we have a little ritual where she runs partway up the stairs, and I do Mousey Fingers through the bannister. We had a little ritual, anyway. The last few times, she’s hissed at me and run away. “Ho ho, you goofball,” I say, as my heart quietly implodes. “Cats are so weird,” I chuckle, tears dripping from my chin, as I hurry into my flat.
