A black cat stalks its prey. Glossy fur pressed against rough brick walls, it watches as the pigeon pecks the road. Tinkling along on tippie toes, it spies me and dares me to tell the secret. Seconds later, a frantic flap of feathers and the hunter is foiled again. I look away innocently, not wanting a fight.
Walking down another road in a different part of town, I think I see the black tom again out of the corner of my eye. A dark shadow lurking behind a salt chest. On closer inspection, it is just a murky pool of stagnant water. Is this paranoia? My heart certainly skipped a beat.
Further on, an urban feline of a different kind: a Smart car purrs, resplendent in a leopard skin pelt.
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