So Holly woke up in the morning and she'd told me as we sat in the back of the cab and were rolling through the rain soaked streets, windows in the back of the cab open a crack, the road in spring filled with pot holes that rattled the both of us.

"The morning" she says, not taking her eyes off the mirror she is using to apply her make up, "the morning" she repeats "is when I wait."

And I feel compelled to ask, "for what" and she says "to see what the day is, whether it is a dog or a cat, " and I wait for her to continue and she doesn't so I ask.

"For what" and she says to see what the day is, whether it is a dog or a cat. And I wait for her to continue and she doesn't so I ask "Dog or cat?"

And I watch her put her make up on, (now her lip gloss as the cab bangs through another pot hole, causing her to miss her lip and swear once again, "merde" and then she continued without acknowledging my question.

"Oh yea" as if she suddenly remembered about what I asked.

"Chien ou chat"

I smile at her use of french.

"You see", she says and I think I have her full attention and she continues that when she awakes in the morning the day descends upon her like a dog or a cat.

"You see, I wait in that quiet moment waiting to see how the day will descend upon me."

The cab proceeds on in early twilight, the city lights slowly dominating the fading twilight as the city turns from daylight to darkness.

"If it's a dog it will become an easy day because I simply put it on its leash and it will follow me, or I it from moment to moment, running here and then there, following it from lamppost to hydrant, hardly aware of its companionship through out the day."

She continues after a slight break snapping the compact shut.

"But if it is a cat, mon cher," she says speaking french which she has taken to speaking lately, I do not know why,

"The day will be remarkable in my ability to understand its moments as catlike, it jumps from moment to disconnected moment in an apparent dis-logic that only a cat could understand. They operate," she continued, "I am sure at some quantum mechanical level of our universe."

And she paused here for quite some time.

"You know, they are the manifestation of the string theory and they live in all dimensions, I believe and when they guide the day, they must run close to the 11 edged membrane that connects all the dimensions, or so I am told. They tread oh so close without falling in any particular direction."

And then she looked at me with her wonderful full face and almond eyes so that I had to ask before we arrived at where we were to arrive.

"And what kind of day is it my fair Holly?"

My eyes beheld her magnetism, focusing on the faint sparkles that were her enhancing mystery.

"Why cat of course."