Somewhere in the small hours, long before three, I woke to the sound of cats negotiating territory in the back garden. When I looked out, two were already facing off, soon joined by a third for a brief, silent standoff. After a moment of tension, the white one slipped away into the dark, and the other two wandered off in their own directions as if the whole thing had been nothing more than a passing thought.
A tiny nocturnal liturgy. No words, no witness but me. And now, perhaps, sleep will return—carrying the hush of that garden stillness, and the mystery of what passed between them.
NeuroDivine 
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