Time passes
It’s really autumn: there’s no escaping it anymore. All the trees have changed, the sidewalks are orange.
All the cats are in my room sleeping, Eva, mis-felin-ically, in the corner on my fleecy shirt, the other three carefully separated on my bed. Everything smells like pine, which is a nice smell, except inasmuch as it means the cats are all covered in sap and will need to be brushed, and they probably got the sap all over my newly-washed sheets.