Ginger isn’t as pliable, as needy as Zen is. Although Ginger must walk like other cats from place to place I often think of her as floating, or drifting, appearing again on the horizon. Just out of reach. A mirage, even. Sometimes I will look down from where I sit to find Ginger looking at me. The look has more weight to it; I give it weight. She doesn’t seem particularly curious about my motives, but she observes.
Today FunkyPlaid and I hung out with Ginger the Cat, keeping her company while also keeping cool during this nasty little heatwave. She allowed me to snap this photo. We also test-drove some cars (not with Ginger). The test-driving was fun, but the rest of it just sucked. I cannot wait until the whole car-buying process can be done online. Come on, future. Writing from: my stuffy study. Listening to: “Palo Alto” by Southern Shores.