After a while I got bored, and switched to another channel, where highlights from a game that had taken place the night before were replaying and being commented on by an anchorperson who just then could not be seen, because he wasn’t on camera. I didn’t want to move, because I didn’t want to disturb the cat, but also I wanted to make coffee and begin writing, so eventually I lifted him off my lap and lowered him to the floor, which caused him to meow indignantly and hurry away, as if I wasn’t worthy of his presence, or aura. Though a minute later, while I was in the kitchen, I felt the very same cat rubbing against my leg and curling his tail around me. Because, of course, he’d forgotten. Or had decided he no longer cared.