My mother loved black cats. One entered my apartment in Budapest, seemingly out of nowhere, one week before my mother passed away. I didn’t notice that I had left the door open, and I didn’t see the cat coming in. I spotted her when she ran in front of my desk. It felt surreal; my first thought was of my mother. I knew that somehow – despite any rational explanation – the appearance of the cat was connected to her. And I was right, although it turned out to be a neighbour’s cat that had gotten lost. Infinite Sadness, Infinite Love.
the black messenger
