The cat arrives without ceremony, because of course it does. One moment the chair beside you is empty, and the next there’s a quiet weight settling in, a soft presence that seems to have always belonged there.
It doesn’t demand attention. It doesn’t interrupt. It simply exists nearby, occasionally glancing your way as if to say, carry on. At some point, it might stretch, reposition itself directly on the corner of your planner, or decide that the pen you just set down is deeply suspicious. You’ll work around it. You always do.
The cat is very good company for writing that needs permission to be imperfect. It doesn’t care about crossed-out words or half-finished thoughts. It understands pauses. It understands staring at the page for a while before writing anything at all.
If you find yourself overthinking a sentence, the cat will quietly remind you that not everything needs to be solved before it’s written down. Sometimes thoughts just need somewhere warm to land.
Write at your own pace. Stop when you want. Continue when you feel ready. The cat will remain nearby, content as long as you are.
A quiet reminder
You never have to choose a companion to keep going. Some visits are meant to be solitary, others feel better shared, and you’re allowed to decide each time.
If at any point the company no longer feels right, you can continue on your own, move to a different seat, turn the page, or simply pause. The Café doesn’t keep score.
When you’re ready
You can stay here a little longer and keep writing, or you can bring this visit to a close and carry the moment with you.
If it feels like a good stopping point, you’re welcome to close the visit for now.
→ Continue to Closing the Visit
There’s no rush, and no right way to leave. You’ll always be welcome back.