The Man. The Siamese

There is a man. Standing on the corner. Sipping a cup of coffee. Not a take-out mug, but one from his kitchen. His lip rasping on the chipped rim each time he raises it to suck on that smooth, dark liquid. Next to him is a cat. A Siamese. Its blue collar matches the man’s blue cotton pants. They are both disinterested. In each other and their surroundings. Looking as if it’s completely normal for this man to be standing there, away from an entrance to any house, but not seeming to be waiting for anything, anyone. The Siamese sits. Raises her paw in time with the man and his coffee cup. They both lick. Him, his coffee; her, her paw. They are still looking at nothing.