Since the early 2000′s I have used a voice recorder to capture sleepy moments, time behind the wheel and walking about. Invaluable. The toughest part for me is listening and transcribing the tape, yet if I wait long enough it all seems vague though familiar.
What a pleasure it is to watch the cat wash his face, his ears. Watch his pupils constrict to slits in the sunny window, his angular face a fraction of an inch away from the glass until he forgets himself, talking and chattering to the birds and adds another nose print. To feel him drop from the window sill onto the bed to lie beside me, to purr into my hair and knead the pillow, sun filtering onto us, comforting me in my sickness.
©2005 Sandra Davidson