Heisenberg Cat

This is a cat's narrative. It has no name, or rather, the name only appears later. Before entering a house, it lives among the streets, shadows and winds, judging the world through smells, temperatures and subtle vibrations. For it, the world is not made of meaning, but of moments that can be approached or that need to be left. Until it meets "her". She didn't try to tame it, she just left a crack in the door, slowed down her movements, and maintained a restrained approach amid uncertainty. So, a cat that was used to leaving at any time began to stay in one space. Staying brings a new order: food, window sills, light, repeated daily routines, and gradually used names. But at the same time, it also brings about changes. The sound begins to show a slight delay, the memory appears in inconsistent versions, and the movements in the mirror are occasionally half a beat slow. Deviations that are almost impossible to prove appear like tiny cracks in a seemingly stable reality. Cat was in no rush to explain the cracks. It's just observation. It observes her, observes how space is fixed by habit, observes how names form outlines in repetition. It gradually realized that the so-called "self" may not be a consistent existence, but the result of the continuous superposition of perception, memory and other people's sight. In this book, there is no clear conclusion. There is only one cat, between light and shadow, inside and outside the door, between approach and withdrawal, recording how the world is no longer completely reliable little by little. And when reality begins to have errors - can you still be sure that what you see is what it is?