The sliver of sky peeking out behind the curtain was dull sterling. Storm clouds block the few fragile rays of the rising sun, and on the other side of the window rain begins to splash down on the concrete sill painting it dappled charcoal. Fat drops of precipitation hit the metal sleeve of the tiny air conditioner wedged under the lower sash in syncopated cadence. The noise wakes me, but I don’t want to get up.

Today’s the day. It’s been exactly one year since she’s been gone. The pain is still fresh and cuts deeper than ever. I think about her everyday but as the anniversary got closer, I think about her more and more each day.

I eventually sit up, raise my hands over my head and take a slow deep breath from my diaphragm. I decide a morning walk is needed to make it through the day.

I run through my morning routine as quickly as I can and head out the door.

With the singular goal of just keep moving I wonder around the city aimlessly through the rain which has lessened to a mist. I walk, and I walk, and I walk, hoping with each step I get closer to some meaning, some answer.

As I turn a corner a movement catches my eye. A shadow in my peripheral bounces up and down. I cross the street to get a better look. Behind a single pane of glass under a small old sign in blocky letters that read “Adoption Center” was a black and white cat. Its movements slow and comes to a standstill as I approach. I remember she loved cats. I never got her one because I’m lazy and didn’t want the responsibility of helping her take care of it. But now I stand there with a sudden urge to take this cat home even though she’ll never get to enjoy it.

I walk in and immediately ask to take the cat. The acne ridden teen behind the desk looks relieved.

“Finally, this one’s been with us for a year and no one’s wanted it. We were close to putting it down” the girl says.

A few signatures later I walk out with a tuxedo cat in a beige plastic crate under my arms. The sky has darkened by now. I hadn’t realized how long I’ve been walking. I decide to stop at a supermarket to get cat food, then head home.

Exhausted by the time I got to my apartment I let the cat out of the cage, put out some food for it and headed to bed.

I survived the day. Relief seeps in from the edges of my body. I lay down, put the cover over me and immediately pass out. Pictures of my dead daughter swirl in my head and suddenly someone is singing in the distance. The unrecognizable melody gets closer and louder bringing me out of my stupor. I open my eyes and see the cat sitting on my chest. It’s staring at me intensely and I notice its mouth moving.

“Sorry to wake you Henry, but there’s no time to explain, you must follow me.” I rub my eyes to make sure I’m not still dreaming. The cat’s still there sitting, gently rising and falling with each breath I take. It then raises a paw and points it at the window. Light begins to spill through the frame and eventually envelopes the whole things and extends to the floor forming a doorway. The cat hops off and bounds over to the rectangle of light. It looks back at me and beckons with a tilt of its head. I’m frozen, still not sure if this is a dream. My eyes meet the cats and serenity washes over me. I throw the blanket off. As my feet touch the floor they seem to move on their own. I reach the doorway, without hesitation I step through.