The Space Under the Window

By Sandy Miller

She saunters into my room, her black hair glistening in the early morning sunlight. With an attitude that only she could possess, she proceeds across my room, over my bed and gracefully jumps onto the radiator that occupies the space under the window, my window. She turns her attention toward the activity and sounds outside. She loves to sit in the window and watch everyone else's goings-on. She sits for hours each day, her attentive ears prepared for even the slightest noise, her head darting in this direction and that with each new sound or movement. I love to watch her sitting there, cleaning herself in morning light. She is such a beauty, my feline baby.

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