Felicity Johnson was man's favorite cat, she
trolled the hillsides and harbors, looking for
this and looking for that. At every stop,
another path she'd take, first one way
this way, then one way straight. And
no one ever knew the difference.
-
Amidst all of this she still was my friend.
We hammered in ice and landed in tents.
I knew her whole family and spent many
evenings at tea with her father and mother,
earning all those spectacular advances that
later got me to nowhere at all. Felicity Johnson
wasn't short, wasn't tall; yet everything about
her was big - and I loved it all. The water,
the fire, the mud and the ice.
-
And then, with the fire that destroyed all
downtown, she was gone. She'd died in
the fire at Iszard's Department Store,
on the corner of Water and Wall, or
somewhere near. Nothing then I
could do, and I couldn't even
mourn. It just was over, and she
was gone. Felicity Johnson
was man's favorite cat. That
was then and this was that.
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