MANU

Man is what he projects.

Manu

Yellow. All I see is yellow. I see a yellow cat with yellow eyes looking at me. There he is, behind the window, watching me.

A voice in my head tells me not to talk out loud. Don't talk to yourself, Emmanuel! Everyone will hear you! I don't do it on purpose. It happens when I get annoyed. It’s been going on for years. After the voice has spoken, I’m almost always quiet again.

I’m at an age where people don’t ask questions any more. So, I talk to myself. That's the way it is. When I hear that cold voice telling me what to do, I get annoyed because it’s ordering me around.

The alarm suddenly rings for no reason. It rings more than usual these days, which doesn’t seem normal. There’s a grating noise at the window. My heart skips a beat but I see it's just the cat scratching at the glass in the living room.

It wants to be noticed, to make some noise, to give dirty looks, and annoy me. That’s all cats are good for. Now it’s quiet again. Peaceful. Yes, I prefer the silence.

I move toward the window but stop to zip up my jeans.

As usual, the safety pin has come undone.

Is there a problem, Emmanuel? No. No problem.

The cat’s still there, sitting on the outside cement border, watching me calmly.

––––––––

A car zooms past and leaves a puddle of water on the sidewalk. I see a woman peering at my face through the window.