Third part of the end

The fluttering of wings brought him out of the state of confusion he was in; a little bird was flapping its wings very close to him spreading the surrounding smoke. He didn’t remember seeing that color combination before. He saw himself falling on his nose like the time he tried to catch the sparrow that no one knew how it got into the house. His head was still spinning when Teresa found him behind the couch looking at the sparrow that had already pooped on the bookcase. Not only had he never hunted a shitty bird before; he was afraid of them. And he ran, through the smoke, fleeing from this new and unfamiliar bird, his head spinning. What weird memories. How strange they feel.

Confused, he began to meow. He called Teresa but she didn’t show up. “Maybe she’s working”– he thought- and deep inside he knew it wasn’t true. Teresa was not coming. Why did he know that? Why was he so sure of his loneliness? Now he was crying, curled up in a ball, shivering with fear. He didn’t understand anything, just like a kitty. It was then that he felt the fangs behind his neck, not hurting him, slowly lifting him up to a safe place. He knew it. He smelled his mother. It was she who was now licking his ears. He turned to look at her and noticed that he did not remember her, and yet he saw her. After a blink, the smoke returned. It seemed to be in the same place as before, or simply never moved. He felt stronger and more vigorous. Where was his mother now?

The whiteness of the clouds was blinding him again. He no longer wondered how the fuck he could know the clouds were there when in reality everything was white. And just as bright. After seeing how fast the clouds were traveling across the sky, he could feel the small, thin hairs of his fur moving. He didn’t see his mother again afterward. He had always wondered if it was the car that passed too close by that had taken her away; every time he tried to go back to that moment he only remembered the clouds. Now, in front of his eyes, a carpet of fur was strewn across the street. He couldn’t even say goodbye. He didn’t remember his siblings either, but he knew that that carpet had more colors than his mother had. Next to him 3 other kittens meowed at the air, lost and scared. “Sorry”– he said to them – “sorry for forgetting you”. A tongue wiped his back one more time and after blinking he realized that he was alone again. He no longer felt pity. Nor guilt.

Teresa’s voice filled the whole space. How big was that place? How strong was her voice? It wasn’t words he heard, just her voice. She seemed to move away, and he began to follow her. Fast, as he had never moved before. He thought he heard his name, but he no longer remembered having one. He didn’t care either, the voice was more important. He kept running until his little paws no longer touched the ground, soaring through the air, or was it the ground that had simply disappeared? He didn’t understand how he was moving or if he was actually doing it. Where he was going. If he had sprouted wings or if he had lost his legs. Or if he never had a body. There were no voices calling him, but he continued towards the smell of milk and the shimmer of clouds and tears wetting his neck on his body that he no longer felt. That he didn’t remember having either. No licking of his mother on his back now. No pain either. No tingles and no tiredness. With a smile on his soul. He was.