The Cat on Locust Street

The seasons are changing. Through this window, you can see the square room at the end. The changing seasons are like another world. That's what she felt. Dream, this is a never-ending dream. When it would start or how long it would last, she had no idea. That distant light is the only bright light in the black and white world, going to that place, that promised place. No matter how much time, no matter how far. Slowly, the world began to flow again, and the little fragment called hope fell here. My wish is...