Feline Mind Games

I just left my house. My first own real house. I loved it. Dunno why exactly. Perhaps it was the balcony. Possibly. It was a wonderful balcony...to sit and watch the cats, or read a book. Ah, those winter days I spent there! I think I was reading Moby Dick then. Yeah. I lay luxuriously in my armchair-part of a set of two that me and Rudder bought from a kabariwallah on the roadside. My feet were up on a cane stool. I had my phone beside me and the cigarettes. For once Psycho the cat was behaving himself, sleeping his fat ass in the sun. He was following a patch of sunlight like a drunk and yawning shamelessly. Me, I was lost in Ishmael's adventures and in the nature of the three mates of the Questod and watching the shadows lengthen.
The sun would on the wane but it'd be warm enough. Sometimes I'd stare at Psycho for so long that he'd open his eyes a crack and look at me. He lay purring in his sleep. Occasionally he would raise his head, squint at me sleepily, decide that I was too far away to touch him and sighing contentedly- I imagine- go back to sleep.
And so it would get to 4 and I'd feel like having some tea. Psycho would start up at the sound of the chair scraping the floor. I'd go in, make myself a large mug of tea- I like loads of tea- get the bourbon biscuits and go back to the chair. The greedy fucker would look on expectantly, sleep forgotten. 'Damn it,' he would think, 'he is having those uninteresting things again. These humans have no taste.' Then he'd get up, arch his back, stretch his legs- and retractable claws- yawn like a maniac and twitch his tail. Then he'd decide that the house needed investigating. So he'd creep past my chair- primed to run like crazy if I so much as sneezed- and go up to the balcony door. Look in, look at me, swish tail, look in again, give me a final look and stalk in. He'd go to the kitchen door and find it bolted. 'What cruelty,' he would think. A minute later I'd see him coming out, looking at me with a mixture of disgust and apprehension. Creep by me again. I'd make some sound just to see him jump up and hurry to his 'safe' porch on the wall. Back there, he would curl up again.
Me, I'd forget all about Captain Ahab and take a nap.