Where's the warmth?

No cat likes change.

On a sunny afternoon, tendrils of golden light spilled through the window and pooled onto a very content cat. Warmth spread through the paws resting on the glass, coaxing a deep rumble from the cat. It could feel heat against its skin, absorbed by its long fur. A scent of drying wheat found its way to the cat, as well as the sweet smell of flowers and nectar. The room was beautifully still, the only sound purring from the cat and the faint chirping of birds outside. The cat lay there as it always did.


To it, this was life. Lazy. Happy. Warm.


Suddenly, a breeze swept through the room, instantly cooling any warm surfaces that lay there. The cat looked out the window, stiffening. No sun could be seen, only a large cloud. A chill ran down its back as the golden light turned stark and hollow, but it settled back against the window. Coolness seeped into its skin as it tried to return to that languishing state it had been in just moments ago.


The warmth-lover trusted that the sun would return. After all, this window spot had always been a reliable source of heat, and had always been there whenever the cat needed a good warm-up. The cat stubbornly clung to the knowledge that this brief spell would end and it could go back to enjoying the lovely warmth that caressed its fur. Of course the sun would come back; it always did. The window had never failed.


So why did it feel like it already had?


While the cat was shivering on the window, the door creaked open. A human stepped through, humming softly as she crossed the room. She settled on the floor with a book and a strange device with the air of inevitability surrounding it. The cat's ears twitched as a click was heard, turning the machine on, revealing it to be a heater emitting hot air. The human sighed contentedly, basking in the sudden warmth that flooded one side of the room. After a while, she noticed the cat, still lying on the window, and smiled at it.


"Come here, cat," she said, patting the floor beside her. "Come and get warm."


The cat declined the invitation, backing further into the window. The human frowned, unsure what to think of the cat's reaction.
"It's warm here, I promise."


The skeptic didn't believe the human. After all, the window had served for a long time. Why should some strange contraption be better than that? The cat tried to convince itself the sun would return, but as the minutes went by, a nagging feeling latched on like a parasite. What if the sun never came out? The evidence was paramount that the afternoon's sunny period had ended, but the cat refused to allow its mind to go that way. It would let itself feel betrayed for the slightest moment.


No, it thought. The warmth will come back.


It didn't.


Over the next few minutes, the human tried to convince the warmth-lover to come to the strange heater, but every time, it stubbornly refused.


It's better this way, it thought, even as chill crept into its bones. You can't convince me otherwise, human.


The heater hummed as if it knew better.


Out of the blue, a loud BANG resounded around the room, followed by the sound of a body of a dazed bird sliding down the window panes, dizzy from flying straight into an obstacle on its leisurely flight. Chill left the cat slightly as it jumped, startled by the noise. Its paws slipped on its precarious perch and it tumbled off, a panicked hiss accompanying its fall.


In a flash the human wrapped her arms around it, and unceremoniously deposited the cat next to the heater.


Even as it leveled a glare at the human, the cat could immediately feel the difference in temperature. A warm balm settled across its body, and that deep chill that had embraced it at the window fell away. A hot sensation tingled against its back where it touched the humming machine. The floor creaked slightly as the human settled back down next to the cat. She lifted an eyebrow and grinned.


"Now are you happy?"


The cat reluctantly agreed with that statement. This warmth is nice, it thought, shifting slightly, but why do I feel so strange?


The cat stared at the window ledge, a mixture of feelings surfacing. On one hand, from a distance the window looked oh-so-unwelcoming, but the cat couldn't forget all the times it had lain there to bask. Lying by the heater felt like cheating. Like trading off those many golden afternoons of sun soaking through its paws and heat pouring against its back for a hunk of plastic. It pressed its back against the heater and hated how good it felt.


But it was nice. The skeptic could admit that. It wasn't that stubborn.


A change in light made the cat open its eyes, and it looked around the room as the human groaned and got up. In an instant the cat found itself freezing, and heat no longer radiated from the heater. With a slam of the door the human was gone, most likely hunting for a torch, and the cat was all alone.


The machine mocked the cat with its silence, no heat or hum coming from it.


The cat sat in the cold staring at the dead machine. Just one thing filled its mind:


Oh, drat.


The End