The Black Cat Chronicles

It was almost three in the morning when she arrived at the edge of the lane. She parked the car on the far side, away from the sanctuary’s gate, and walked the rest of the way.

The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and night flowers. Her steps were quiet, deliberate. She loved such walks moments when the world felt suspended, when the streets belonged only to her. The night wrapped around her like a familiar cloak, offering serenity and a quietness that daylight could never give.

Halfway there, she saw Lily the long-haired local beauty sitting outside one of the houses. Lily’s fur caught the moonlight, her eyes half-closed in a drowsy watch.

“Hello, Lily… how are you?” she whispered. The cat’s eyes blinked once, slow and knowing, before widening in recognition. Lily padded forward, tail lifted in greeting, and allowed the Madam to stroke her head.

A low purr vibrated beneath her fingers before the cat turned back to her post. Lily had once stayed at the sanctuary for a time, recovering from the shock of being abandoned in a box with three tiny kittens outside the gate. After she was neutered, she wandered into a neighbour’s home and decided to stay.

Like any feline, she wanted her own space. The neighbour gave her food, water, and love but Lily never forgot the people who had protected her when she was left with nothing. Now and then, when the Madam was around, Lily would return to the sanctuary, slipping through the quiet streets as if on a secret errand, just to say hello.

She reached the sanctuary, paused outside for a while, and sank into the old sofa chair pressed against the wall, letting the wind move through the silence. The moon hung bright and heavy, silvering the roofs and leaves. One by one, the cats appeared silent, deliberate until a loose circle formed around her.

They looked up, unblinking, their tails swishing lazily. In their eyes was a question, almost audible: Why is she always here at this hour, when the rest of the humans are curled in their beds? Old Earth, dignified and slow, settled near her feet like a sentinel on duty. Tiger, the lanky tabby, slinked in from the shadows, his tail making lazy question marks in the air.

Small Mei, still kittenish, pounced on nothing in particular, as if showing off. They were happy to see her she could feel it in the way they lingered close, the way their eyes softened when they met hers. Felines were nocturnal by nature, and the Madam had arrived at the perfect time: the hour when the night truly belonged to them, when their energy sparked and their games began.

Earth, the senior matriarch who had been here nearly ten years, leapt onto her lap. The cat buried her face in the crook of the Madam’s arm, breathing her in as though confirming she was real.

The house was still. The children were asleep. She would not wake them. Between them, words were unnecessary she knew where to find the key. Quietly, she slipped inside, unseen, into the room that waited for her and her alone. The door closed without a sound.

After her shower, she sat on the edge of the narrow bed, hair still damp, the faint scent of soap clinging to her skin. The sanctuary was quiet now, save for the soft rustle of cats shifting in the night.

Earth had followed her into the room, moving with the silent authority of a long-time resident. Without hesitation, the old matriarch hopped onto the bed and curled herself at the foot her favourite spot whenever the Madam was here. Within moments, her breathing slowed into the deep rhythm of sleep, tail twitching once before going still.

The Madam reached for her laptop, the screen’s glow briefly lighting her face. The chat room was alive as always strangers trading banter, news, and gossip under usernames that meant nothing. She had been there long enough to blend in, her presence just another shadow among many.

Without a word, she typed the first code. Her fingers moved with the ease of someone sending a message never meant for everyone.

Bunga cempaka mekar di laman,

Harum mewangi dibawa angin.

Permata Timur indah bersinar,

Tangan siapa kini menggenggam yakin?

It appeared in the thread like any other poem, harmless to most. But for the few who knew, it was the signal the stone dropped into still water. She read the thread for a moment longer, watching the chatter scroll by, none of it betraying that anyone had noticed.

Satisfied, she closed the laptop with a soft click. Earth stirred but did not wake, her tail curling tighter around her body. The Madam lay down, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. The moonlight spilled faintly through the curtains, the only witness as her breathing slowed and the sanctuary slipped back into silence.

She was awaken by the gentle but insistent nudge of Earth’s head against her arm. The old cat wanted out breakfast time. From beyond the door came the faint clatter of dishes and the voice of Ravi, one of the children, calling to the cats as he prepared their morning meal.

The Madam rose, opened the door, and let Earth slip into the hallway.

Before returning to bed, she sat at the small desk and lifted the laptop lid. The screen came alive, bathing her face in a pale glow. The reply was there, stamped at 4:00 a.m. She looked at the time, her expression unchanged, eyes unreadable. Without a word, she closed the lid.

Burung tempua terbang melayang,

Singgah sebentar di pohon sena.

Permata Timur tiada bertuan,

Namun semua mengidamkannya.

Sleep was more important. She had a meeting after lunch, and rest was a currency she could not waste. She lay back down, the room settling into silence again, save for the distant murmur of Ravi’s voice and the shuffle of feline paws on tile. ​​