Le bruit d'a cote

The cat going missing shouldn't have been a problem.

In theory.

In reality, I'd just spent the last twenty minutes searching my apartment like an exhausted detective.

Under the couch.

Behind the TV stand.

In the bathroom.

Nothing.

I slowly straightened up in the middle of the living room.

"Where the hell have you gone this time..."

Silence.

I looked at the sliding glass door.

The balcony.

My stomach immediately tightened.

"No."

I walked over.

"No, no, no."

I leaned my head outside.

The balcony was empty.

The railing.

The street below.

No cat.

I stood frozen for a second.

Then I muttered,

"Tell me you didn't fall."

My brain instantly started producing absolutely catastrophic images.

A flying cat.

A cat missing a jump.

A cat flattened in the courtyard.

I ran a hand through my hair.

"Great."

I'd just accidentally murdered my own cat through sheer negligence.

Exactly what my life was missing.

I turned back toward the apartment.

"If you're hiding somewhere, I swear to God..."

Someone knocked on the door.

Three knocks.

Slow.

Very calm.

I frowned.

Nobody ever came knocking at my place.

I walked over and opened it.

A man in his fifties stood in front of me.

Very straight-backed.

Very dignified.

The kind of person who could walk into a room and instantly be taken seriously.

In his arms, lounging like a perfectly satisfied king, my cat was purring.

I blinked.

The man looked at me gravely.

"Young man."

A brief pause.

"Would this happen to be YOUR cat that entered my daughter's bedroom?"

My brain stalled for a second.

Then two.

Then three.

My cat looked up at me.

Perfectly happy.

Traitor.

Behind the man, a voice immediately protested.

"No, Dad, that's not fair!"

A young woman appeared behind him, clearly annoyed.

"We could've waited until tomorrow!"

She crossed her arms, then pointed at the cat.

"And besides, I didn't even get my allergies around him."

She looked up at her father with absolute conviction.

"That's obviously a sign from fate."

I remained frozen in the doorway.

My brain was still trying to process what was happening.

My cat had infiltrated the neighboring apartment.

The neighbor's father had just rung my doorbell.

And now the neighbor was talking about fate.

I stared at the cat.

The cat stared back at me.

Then I thought to myself:

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Please tell me I'm having a nightmare.

…

Le bruit d’à côté

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