This is really silly, she said. I don't believe you. You turned me into a human. The last was emphasised with explicit distaste.

‘You're the one being silly, De, you're not even a real cat.’

Well, I'm a cat now, aren't I? That's like saying you are not a real person. After all, you're just a soul in a body, same as me. If I'm not a cat, you're not human either.

‘De, you can't think that you are a cat. Cats don't think.’

Oh really now? And how would you know, oh wise and learned one? I've never seen you play with a ball of wool. She hit the ball that had been amusing her while I was reading my story straight at me, then turned around and wandered behind the couch, her perfect tail swaying straight out behind her.

I rolled my eyes, ‘Oh for God's sake, December. You wanted a story about you, and I think–’

The doorbell rang.