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Cats sacred ritual

  

When midnight came and went and all that was left on the road was a pile of cats, also known as a clowder. I had never seen such a thing, the pile was made up of so many different shapes and sizes of cats, twisted and mounded together, forming a mountain that seemed to reach for the bright full moon. As I shown my flashlight at the pile, the colors of the fur seemed to meld like paint on a canvas, with several glassy eyes reflecting the light back at me. Then came a muffled screeching yowl, and at that, all the cats began to flow like a waterfall, untwisting from the pile and falling to the ground in all directions, breaking away into a single stream that weaved  into the woods around the road. The pile diminished, leaving but a singular cat, fur white and gleaming like a pile of spilled salt in the sun. I took a step forward, and the white cat suddenly vanished, the final stragglers joining the stream and vanishing into the woods. I followed in pursuit, curious to see where they were headed. The streams of cats seamed to flow together, as though they were no longer made up of individuals, but fluid like water that danced through the woods, sometimes jumping and splashing against the trees, over the rocks and branches. With the the canopy of the trees, the moon was no longer able to shed its light upon them, and the only light came from my flashlight and the fireflies that glittered the woods. They came to a clearing in the trees, where a giant angular rock stood in the middle, almost like a throne, and atop it sat the white cat. The cats streamed into the clearing, looped around the rock, then sat in neat succession. The white cat let out another screeching yowl, and all was still. My heart was beating out of my chest, I felt as though I was intruding upon something sacred and private, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn and leave. Instead I watched as the white cat let out a soft meow, almost like a musical note. The cats below began to pair off, and stand on their hind legs. The light of the fireflies had brightened as they seemed to accumulate, so much that I decided to turn off my flashlight. The clearing almost began to look like a ballroom. As all the cats paired up and twirled around the rock, the white cat continued to meow softly. As the cats danced, a small gust of wind came and began to twirl around the rock, and the cats began to ascend slowly into the air, up toward the moonlight sky. They stayed in formation, until all the cats had ascended so high that they seemed to fit into the moons full round glow. Down below, the white cat, who had still been sitting upon the rock, let out a final soft meow and jumped, soaring past the other cats, until it disappeared into nothing but a twinkle. The circle of dancing cats began to break apart, dancing into different directions, upward until they to, became nothing but a twinkle. I stood in disbelief in what i had just witnessed. “ Must be the full moon” i thought, as i made my way back toward the road. The fireflies had began to blink out as i reached my truck. I got in, and just sat there, still wondering in awe at everything i had seen tonight. Dawn broke with an audible crack, a back stretching itself out of a long nighttime cramp, and all was still.