**How did the cat do that?**
I honestly don’t know. I was just sitting there, minding my own business, watching TV—when suddenly, *it happened*. It was like a sound, but also like... a *thing*. It hit me in the soul.
The meow—it wasn’t even a *meow*. It was a full-body event, like the cat opened a portal in its throat and screamed the name of God **backwards**.
I jumped so hard, I spilled my beans—but I wasn’t even eating beans. I haven’t *had* beans in three days.
The sound bent my spoon. I looked at it afterward, and it was curling like a bodybuilder doing reps.
The cat just sat there like it had done nothing wrong. But I *saw* it. It looked at me with eyes *full of knowing*.
Martha came in and asked, “Did you fall?”
I said, “No, the cat made a noise.”
She said, “Cats don’t do that.”
I said, “Well, *this one* did, Martha.”
She walked out, and I heard her muttering a prayer in the hallway.
Then my neighbor Pete texted:
> “Is your house okay? The windows jiggled.”
> And then a second message:
> “cat???”
> He *knows*.
I tried to call 911, but my phone glitched and dialed my cousin Ernie instead. Now he’s on his way over—with a cross and some ham.
My dog ran into the dryer and locked it from the inside. He’s been in there for two hours, barking slowly… like a ghost.
The ceiling fan won’t stop spinning, and it’s not even plugged in—I checked. I got up and checked, and now my hip hurts, but it was worth it.
The meow was *so loud*, I saw colors that don’t exist.
The news came on saying a weather balloon exploded, but *I know* it was the cat.
The sound made my knee crack like bubble wrap—I think my skeleton shifted.
My soup turned to foam. The microwave door won’t close anymore. The basement light flickers every time the cat breathes.
He knows what he did.
The *earth paused*. I *felt* it. The birds stopped. The mailman fell over.
I went outside and the sky looked *scared*.
Please—if anyone knows how or why the cat did that, I need an answer. I can’t sleep. I can’t cook my egg. My TV shows are too quiet now—*everything’s* too quiet.
I’m afraid to blink in case he meows again.
I think he’s winding up.
He just went **“Mrr.”**
I screamed into my shoe.
Send help. Or at least a scientist. Or an old priest... and a young one.
The cat is vibrating.
I think he just *looked into time*.
Plebscan