I Knew It Was You

The night we broke up, Victoria Mercer got scratched by a feral stray.

By the following morning, she woke up trapped inside the body of that very same black cat, scooped up from the rain-slicked pavement and brought straight into my apartment.

For days, she was forced to watch my life unfold from two feet off the ground. She watched me make coffee, sleep alone, and FaceTime a girl I’d recently met. She tried to swat the screen whenever that girl laughed, but her claws couldn't reach; she tried to scream her usual cutting commands, but all that came out was a high, frantic mewl.