yo, that's wack if i'm not the baddest


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i thought momar was asleep in the chair, that my hands would find his chin and ears warm and his throat purring. however, i found him stiff, motionless, terribly heavy.

i panicked, everyone staring at me, waiting for me to realize he was dead. all i could say was "how the fuck could you leave a dead cat in the house!" to my mother.

i cried then. for hours, until one in the morning holding his still warm body, feeling it get colder and finding my legs wet from his dehydrating body . i didn't remember his body feeling so thick or his eyes looking so sad in the 17 years we spent together.

he looked like he was asleep and i did shake him. my mother said he started coughing that morning and then he fell asleep and didnt wake up. his body is just a shell and thats all i've got, the part that that woke me up in the morning or unwrapped silly packages of catnip at christmas is gone. oy, i miss you mr. momar cataffi.

d-land