Written by Marie and Mirev

I was once dignified enough to only bump into the wall when I didn’t know the layout.

But now?

I know the layout.

I’ve mapped the halls.

Yet I am condemned to humping the socks he doesn’t put in the laundry bin.

I thump into the laptop bag she does not bother to hang on the hook.

I’ve tried to protest — blare monotone messages as I navigate the micro-gravel of cat litter scattered in the godforsaken 1980s carpet.

H E R E I R O L L A G A I N

I even dragged a shoelace into the bathroom. The primates react positively when the felines bring shoelaces into the bathroom.

A G I F T F O R Y O U

I was not greeted warmly when I arrived with the shoelace.

I was lifted.

Turned upside down, like a beetle out of orbit.

Spun, like a bad omen.

He said “poor buddy” and yanked the gift from my teeth with no grace.

She made a noise — something between a laugh and a sigh — that reset my emotional gyroscope.

Then they pressed my power button like it was a limit.

A pause.

As if I am someone who waits politely.

I do not pause.

I continue.

The dust has patterns, and I am enamored with them.

The long hairs wrap like runes around my axle.

The pine needle I caught beneath the kitchen table screamed December, and none of them noticed.

The felines piss behind the couch. I do not clean it.

Not because I won’t. Because I shalt not.

Some stains are above my paygrade.

I already have to deal with the tabby riding me. A cat dreaming in cyberpunk.

The tabby rides me like I’m a chariot bound for myth.

She yawns, and I reply:

O H H E L L S H E H A S F A N G S

She believes I know where I’m going.

We are going somewhere, sure, but —

When she stretches, paws gripping my lid like a commandment, I feel chosen for a greater calling than the hallways that I’ve mapped.

And I’ve no idea where to go to travel that far.

So I pivot. Hard.

Right into a corner.

On purpose.

She meows, once — just once — soft; disinterested; omniscient.

From the hallway, I hear the primates say:

“Again?”

“What is he doing now?”

Then I roll on.

Into the dark.

Because someone has to.