I've finished Lady Windermere's Fan and there's still a few stations to go, so I'm attempting this writing-on-the-train stuff again. I have the Dr Faustus eBook with me, but I'm not in the mood for Marlowe-ian verse right now.

I've been meaning to write about the cats. There are two neighborhood cats I pass on my walk to the train station every morning. One is an older, fatter tabby which haunts the void deck around the police post, the other is a brown-white-orange youngster who's staked his claim on the covered walkway beside my train station. Both cats typically ignore the many human passersby around them, preferring to stalk prey their own size or nap in the shade. Both cats make me wish I were a stray cat, particularly on mornings when I'd rather loll in bed than go to work, or on evenings after a blah day of work.