I'm living in north-central San Francisco, a busy neighborhood I like, in a big communal wooden house with an atrium. Fun, in some ways. Interesting people. One fascinating woman with a strange face--beautiful, feline, with black black bangs and... Groucho Marx eyebrows? What is this, the house of Frida Kahlo?

But it's noisy and crowded and privacy's nonexistent. The walls are thin and my bedroom window's by a busy walkway--easy to peer in. Since I'm rather private about sex, this goldfish bowl leaves me frustrated. I'm not ready to chase any of the girls here in the complex, or to go out in the world.

Besides, I'm already in love--with our cat. Our unusual cat. She's big as a lynx, and smart--she loves to read, like me.

She hops on my bed and rubs up against me. I massage her, nibble her ears, kiss her nose and want to kiss her nipples. She loves it all, and raises her tail. Are we ready for sex?

But I feel inhibited since anyone can hear us, and peer in and see.

So... my bed grows eyes, winks at me, and scuttles out a sliding door into the atrium. Now that's furniture with initiative!

But is it really more private out here? We're away from the main hallway, and roommates won't hear as readily, but a dozen bedroom windows open on the atrium--anyone looking out can see. No privacy anywhere in our commune! We have to look outside. What about the park, way off-trail? The bed marches on...

A second reason I'm wary: I have recurring flare-ups of an unidentified fever, and I'm not certain my feeling of sexual urgency is really me. What if it's Lyme organisms (or something like them) trying to get me to infect a partner? My wave of lust was so abrupt and intense, I'm a little suspicious.

But she's so CUTE!

The literate cat has an odd mark on her haunch. A glyph with meaning. Not branding inflicted by humans--this fur pattern appears magically as you mature. On My Little Pony, they're called "cutie marks", a name suggesting mere surface decoration, but they're not: they symbolize your life-calling and nature. Tattooed on your butt for everyone to see! Leaves you vulnerable to teasing or snap judgments.

Hmm. That's how I feel sexually in this crowded house: not embarrassed YET, but vulnerable to it. Exposed.

And then I wake, feeling insanely horny--for my cat. Our very big, very studious cat.

NEXT EVENING

My housemates play a movie, Star Trek: Into Darkness. Not great, but I get hooked. During James Kirk's early years at Starfleet Academy, he parties more than studies. One morning, he wakes up to find he's not alone in bed. Two girls with him! Starfleet Academy classmates. They look like sisters. But not human sisters. Big cats.

And now my dream makes more sense.

PICTURE NOTE

Before her death, my mom, a painter, gave me some canvas scraps with impressionist meadows & flowerbanks. Inspired by Jenny Badger Sultan's Box of Dreams, I've been painting dream figures on them. So the meadow was painted c.2000 (signed M. Pagels); I added the dream-cat in 2025 (signed Wayan). Posthumous crosstime collaboration! I left off the mysterious glyph on her flank because I couldn't remember its shape when I woke; rather than falsify it, I'll wait till it reappears. Dreams play a long game.

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