In restless dreams I walk alone, down narrow streets of coble stone.

My cat Bagheera lets me make kissing noises over his head, but pulls away if I come to close. He is in a mood tonight, the rain pattering on the glass makes him anxious; he cannot understand nor catch with open claws the source of the noise. I too am anxious, wanting, waiting, on a quiet rain soaked summer night, and fear I have been too long in waiting. A pile of graduate school applications lie next to me, half completed. I am not lonely; taken to staring out the window with blank eyes catching the chance individual drop of rain, yet plagued by a certain impatience. I cannot wait forever. Time to act. Bagheera and I will not be anxious tomorrow, when the sunlight comes again.