I saw him for the first time on the street. It was late, and the moon lit up the sidewalk. From among some cardboard boxes, his silhouette appeared, and I heard him meowing. I stopped. His feline crying was like music, a melodious nocturne that came to me, asking for help, food or caresses. I don’t know, but something in his voice was calling me, so I approached.

I never cared for animals, I never loved them, but there was something about this one that drew me irresistibly to him, like a magnet pulls at metal, so I bent down and held out my hand. The little cat came at once and walked between my legs, rubbing himself against me, leaving his scent on my pants and socks. I touched him and he meowed again, this time, a long, high-pitched meow, a musical tone that filled the emptiness of the night. When I put my hand on his head, he looked at me and started purring, arched his back, and rubbed up against my legs again.

So we were already friends. It seemed he accepted me immediately. I wondered what he must have seen in me. Why me? Out of the crowd of passersby who parade down this street and wear away the soles of their shoes on these sidewalks. Why did he choose me?

So we started seeing each other often. I changed the route I took on the way back from work to pass by the street where the cat was. I brought him food and stayed to pet him for a while. Our relationship strengthened over time. The kitty knew what time I passed by his sidewalk and was there waiting impatiently for me. When he saw me turning the corner, there was an expression on his face, a sort of twinkle in his eyes, and I realized that the curl of his lips was a smile, that he had become attached to me and enjoyed my company.

But I never loved him, nor did I like him that much. He was a dirty, flea-ridden cat; he had a droopy ear and walked unevenly, as if one of his paws was defective. I never thought of taking him home—feeding him on the sidewalk was enough. I would have never brought that malodorous cat home.

Then I thought about the money I spent every week feeding him, all the more so because the price of cat food had gone up, and I also thought about the time I wasted going out of my way to that back street, when I could be at home watching TV. So one fine afternoon I decided that enough was enough: it was time to end all this.

***

I saw him for the first time on the street. It was late, and the moon had completely filled the sky, flooding the sidewalk with its light. First I heard his footsteps, and then I saw his shadow appear. An unexpected excitement ran through my body; I instinctively knew that he was the one, that I should get out from between the boxes and approach him. I did so, then meowed and took a few steps. He stopped and looked at me. It seemed to me that he hesitated, but I knew that he was the one, so I had to do something to capture his attention.

I rubbed myself in between his legs and meowed again. I looked at him with tender eyes, tried to seduce him, and when he bent down to caress me, I arched my back and smiled.

There was no doubt that we were friends already. Yes, feline friendship is immediate. So we built a relationship in which he came at the same time every day to feed me. I waited for him enthusiastically and smiled at him every time with the best twinkle in my eyes. I would approach him as soon as I heard his steps, because I knew the sound of his footfall, which had become music to my ears, an anticipation of things to come. However, I knew that I was getting closer, little by little, to the premeditated conclusion of our friendship.

Because I never loved that man. I don’t like humans, but I tolerate them because they feed me. One might think that I use them, that my actions are maneuvers to deceive them and convince them that I’ve developed some affection for them so that they give me food. Then I rub myself against their legs, meow at them sweetly, smile at them amorously—yet it’s all a farce. When my stomach is full, it’s all over. However, with this guy it was different. I felt for him almost the same indifference that I feel for others, but there was something, there was something else.

***

So things came to a head. The situation was already intolerable, so I decided that something had to be done, that the world wasn’t big enough for the both of us, and that this damned creature had to disappear.

It would be easy, a quick maneuver, a withering blow, and thus he would meet his end.

So the next time we met I acted friendly, as always. Nothing would betray my intentions; I was smiling and very happy to see him again.

The time had come. He came up to me. This was my chance.

It all happened in a single instant. He never knew what hit him. Like a lightning bolt, death came to him, and now he’s gone; he is no more. Well, his body still exists; it’s lying on the sidewalk next to me. I hope the street sweeper will take it away in the morning, but his soul is no longer in this world. I sincerely hope that he is becoming lost in some infernal labyrinth.

Now the moon, like on so many other nights, casts its light onto the sidewalk while I wonder who will be the next one to come feed me, and when I look up at the sky, I see the dirty eyes, the clumsy mustache, in the perfect roundness of the moon I see the hateful face of that man.