Cat in The Rain

Cat in The Rain

He lived in a fresh Spanish colonial home in the tropics with floor to ceiling French doors. He had a lush green lawn with hedges of palm trees and ferns. In his yard was a sparkling pool and an old red brick wall smothered in golden Bougainvillea blooms.

He had a loft studio and stayed mostly at home with all his cats. Anytime he felt the urge, he would walk the narrow brick road to all his haunts in town.

He was a member of many clubs where the biggest fish stories were swapped. He had a top of the line fishing yacht and no fear of landing 1000 pound marlins any day of the year.

He could make you smell, taste, see, and feel everything he did, but his words were never really his.

Many women loved him madly but his heart was always somewhere else.

He was admired for his charisma, guts, and zeal. Even though he suffered injuries and great pain most of his life, he was always eagerly alive .

One summer morning he awoke and without thinking twice whether to have or have not, he sat down on the staircase and put a shotgun shell in his head.

For in the end it was always he, for whom the bell tolled.

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