Black Cat on the Tower

I caught him lounging on the highest perch of his grey carpeted tower, looking down at the room with a mild, unblinking judgment. The sisal rope on the post below is frayed from use, but up here, it is all comfort. He sits like a sleek shadow against the bright white wall. Behind him, three framed classical prints hang slightly askew, adding a quiet backdrop to his afternoon vigil. Down below, the living room is a mix of textures—a tan sofa, a blue pillow scattered with white starfish, and a patterned pink cushion—but his attention is entirely focused forward. He does not seem to care about the camera, just accepts it as another mild interruption to his otherwise peaceful routine.