Catquake

I am sitting on a sofa, next to a sleeping cat.
He is purring in his sleep.
I watch his whiskers twitch, his toes wriggle.
He is dreaming.
What is he dreaming of? Walking through grass? Laying in the sun?
He’s twitching more. Maybe he’s running?
If he told me, I’d keep his secret.
But he never does.
A secret never told is a secret kept.
His fur ripples, his paws padding the air.
His whole body is writhing, orange stripes like waves.
And then, he wakes up with a meow.
Licks a paw, and drifts off to sleep again.