The morning arrived not with sunshine, but with a silence so deep it woke him from his slumber. The glass door slid open, revealing a transformation that had swept across his kingdom overnight. The familiar grey concrete of the balcony was gone, replaced by a soft, glittering blanket of white.
He stepped out, his paws sinking slightly into the strange, cold powder. A gust of wind ruffled his thick, tawny fur, carrying with it the scent of ice and distant chimneys. He was built for this, his ancestors had stalked through frozen forests, and his double coat rose to meet the chill, insulating him against the biting air.
Tiny, crystalline stars drifted down from the grey sky, caught in the safety netting like diamonds in a web. He lifted his head, amber eyes wide and unblinking, watching them fall. One landed on his nose, cold and wet, melting instantly against his warmth. Another clung to his long whiskers, a fleeting decoration that vanished in a breath.
He turned his attention to a clump of the white stuff gathered on the floor. It was rounded, like a toy, but motionless. With cautious precision, he extended a single paw. He tapped it. It was solid yet yielding, freezing to the touch. He paused, analyzing this new element. It wasn’t prey to be hunted, nor food to be eaten. It was the sky itself, fallen to earth to be played with.
Satisfied with his investigation, he sat by the edge of the railing, the snowflakes dusting his back like powdered sugar. He looked out through the mesh at the sleeping city, his tail wrapped neatly around his paws. The world was cold, but he was warm. He was the king of the balcony, the watcher in the snow, the Cat who held the winter in his gaze.
Shannon Willis can usually be found in the company of furry friends. A passionate animal enthusiast, her work is often inspired by her deep love for cats, dogs, and the animal kingdom as a whole.
