Glückskeks und die Hauptstadtkatze

Die Hauptstadtkatze lag auf dem Teppich und döste in den Abend hinein. Glückskeks setzte sich neben sie und war immer noch in ihrem Traum von letzter Nacht gefangen. "Kannst du eigentlich auch Träume deuten, Hauptstadtkatze?" fragte Glückskeks, als die Hauptstadtkatze ihre schrägen Augen einen Millimeterbruchteil öffnete, um nach Glückskeks zu sehen. "Weil, ich hatte einen... I met this girl, and we found out that we had a mutual friend, a schoolmate from way back when. He introduced us, and she invited me back home to her place, an old house, gorgeous, with old furniture, very comfortable, very nice.
I went to this room in her house, she had told me she had had another guest, this movie star. He was gone by then, but somehow I was still not supposed to be in this room. I went in anyway, and there was a bookshelf full of old books, and there was this book that I really really wanted. It was huge, thick book, and I wanted to read it and keep it. Suddenly I realized that Mr. Moviestar. hadn’t moved out yet, that he was still there, because I suddenly noticed his stuff, some clothes on the bed and a bag. I realized that he had slept in this bed and worn these clothes, and I smelled the clothes, I wanted to be close to him somehow. I put them back, but kept one piece of clothing. My new friend came in and I think she said I could keep the book. Then I was alone in this room again. Suddenly I met Mr. Moviestar, I don’t know if it was still in this room or a little later somewhere else. We instantly clicked, we talked and talked and felt that we were really similar in thoughts, in the way we perceive the world. I spent a lot of time with him. Sometimes I saw him sitting in a café or a restaurant with other girls, but I was never really jealous because I felt this was something else than what we had. We walked around the town, it was an old one with a lot of old small shops and cafes and such, it was really nice there. I found out that he also liked that book that brought me to his room, and he had something that I saw one time, it was like some advertising paper or brochure, and somebody had written something on it, and it was my phone number. So he had had my phone number before he even met me, but he didn’t know it was mine.
The whole dream made me feel very good, I felt very much at home there and very connected to Mr. Moviestar. He was gorgeous, but handled it in a quirky way, not like he didn’t know he was or something, but like he knew it was not important, really. He was shy in his heart, but opened up to me because he felt that we were close somehow. We had our own little world that nobody else could really connect to."
Die Hauptstadtkatze schnurrte einen kurzen Schnurrer, der alles war, was an Interpretation von ihr zu bekommen war. Mr. Moviestar? dachte sie. Gut, daß sie ihn in ihrem Traum nicht K. genannt hat, sonst wär mir das zu kafkaesk. Und gut, daß Katzen ihre Trauminterpretationen immer für sich behalten müssen, alter Katzenehrenkodex. Soll's doch jemand anderes interpretieren.