horizon meditation

the end of december is upon me like tight clothing. i am aware of every inch of myself as the days push against my skin and make me want to bolt for the horizon. but i do not know what they have there, on the horizon. i imagine one long table stretched out to inifinity, facing blankness, clouds spread like text on a page, but there is no top edge or bottom or left or right. the table is made of wood, but not an impressive kind. it actually looks fake. i am dressed in a tux, with jet black hair gelled into a mullet. i have the face of cheetah. one of my eyes has a large black ring around it. i sit down. i don't have a tail. my clawed feet scratch the cheap wood, my legs are too long to sit at this table. i seem to be alone at this table and yet, something moves in the distant fog to my left and right. if i hold my breath i can hear human voices. perhaps this table is longer than infinity, so long, one can sit completely out of sight of the next person, miles and miles away. i focus on the clouds. they don't move. they seem fake too, glued onto this scene to make it seem like there is depth where there is none. i am familar with this trick from my human life.

there is no silverware or plates set at the table, nothing even to fiddle with. you would think that a spot on the horizon would be a little more full than this. i stretch out my cat feet and reach my arms across the table. i try to feel for the edge on the other side, but the table keeps receeding futher and further away from me. my arms grow unbelievably and yet believably long. i still cannot reach the edge. perhaps there are no edges out here and trying to reach for them is silly.

what to do out here? i tap my claws together. i look over my shoulder and everything is black. i look under me and all is black. i let my feet dangle, they push into the black beyond the legs of the chair on which i am sitting. i expect to fall at any moment. i look in front of me again. the sky, or at least, what i think is the sky is pink orange and the clouds are in the exact places i left them. i tap my claws together again then lift myself lightly from my chair. i tense my muscles, ready to spring. i lunge at the pink and orange sky. there is a flash and i'm sitting in a black chair at a table. it seems to be the same one and yet, the clouds look different. i lunge again, across the table, there is a flash and i'm sitting in my original seat. i twitch my whiskers. i don't understand. i lunge again, this time my head feels light and i get dizzy. what is this horizon? where does it go? or does it go?