it seemed like all there was only preparation, from the moment the decision was made until the moment i picked up my black cat from baggage claim in istanbul atatürk airport. (there he was, sitting in his carrier unattended, dropped off like a lost parcel in the middle of the bustling space.) who knows how he made it across the atlantic; it seemed like the time would never come, for neither of us. yet he made it here the same way i did: with presence and patience as the only footing. now we sit on this couch, my black cat and i, in the other-other world, where another form of otherness awaits.
and so it was, and so it is.
and so it begins where it ends.
