The Cheshire Cat on Himself

 The Cheshire Cat on Himself

(with running commentary from human observer)

Mr Carroll (better known to me as Reverend Charles) forgot to mention that I am the breed of cat known as Burmese. We love to climb, are good at it, and unlike some other felines do not get stuck up trees and wail to be brought down. We like it high – and can come down when we care to, e.g. for food.

‘I’m agile, adept’ –

his feline smirk declares

from a lofty branch

It’s true that now you see me, now you don’t. I am indeed the disappearing cat – according to my whim (which means my needs). There are people who swear I dematerialise, then eventually re-materialise, appearing suddenly just when they are certain I have vanished forever.

where has that cat gone?

– oh! where did he come from?

he keeps his secrets

The Reverend got it right about my wisdom. I am the observer, through which I have learned much. Alice was an impulsive child, needing guidance. At least she had sense enough to listen to me, if not often the patience to understand what I was trying to explain. One can but try!

he slow-blinks riddles –
his air inscrutable

yet self-satisfied

What about my famous grin, which successive generations of artists always draw full of menacing teeth? Cats can and do grin with open mouths, but usually in fun. (Otherwise it’s a snarl.) Mine, while cheerful enough, was more of a knowing smile behind closed lips. And still more than that – it was an air, an emanation, a mood conveyed by my whole being. Of course it lingered, even after I removed my bodily self. 

this cat’s expression 

says he has mastered life –

others may ponder

Image  from Unsplash, by Alejandra Coral

Written in response to Friday Writings #5 at Poets and Storytellers United, where Rommy invites us to reveal the point of view of a secondary character in fiction.