The Bed Keeper



The Bed Keeper


The Bed Keeper looked down at me from her pillow throne. Slate gray and serene, she observed me silently. She was sizing me up, trying to decide if I was friend or foe. In the cat kingdom as with all kingdoms, this is first and foremost. 

Seeing as how I bowed below her immediately, I seem to have made a favorable impression. However, she followed me with her eyes as I executed the bed ritual: the changing of the day costume to night, the stripping off of any dayness paramount to approaching her throne yet again.

When I had finished with the cleansing bathroom ritual, I returned to ask permission to ascend her throne. She gazed at me with her gold eyes but said nothing. How was I supposed to know if this was an assent or refusal?

I moved toward her cautiously, inching toward the prized throne. It was true that I was there to overthrow her, although I wished it to be as pacific as possible. 

She made no comment as I nudged her slightly, but she refused to move. This takeover would not be easy. My only recourse was to slip the sheets covering the throne from under her. It was a bold move, I know, but the result was that slowly I was able to slide her to the side enough to establish myself on the throne.

She didn't give up. Strong as a statue, she stood her ground and pushed against me. She leaned into me the whole night, and her reinforcement arrived at some point to trap my legs.I tried to wiggle free, but it was no use. When I finally stopped resisting, we all curled up into each other, sharing the space.

Because kingdoms are meant to be shared.


Text and photo: Kristen Mastromarchi

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