By Rachel H Grant
Rose the cat slumbered, caught in a deep spell from which nothing could wake her. Inside her soul, feline magic unmelted.
Her sleeping spirit soared through the night. It knew where to go. Somewhere, a mother cat gave birth to kittens. She needed a soul nurse to help.
So Rose’s gentle spirit covered the queen in rose quartz comfort. The mother purred as she gave birth, pain banished in a rose quartz mystery.
Rose woke up. In the kitten bed a piece of rose quartz remained, a slice of the cake of rose quartz magic. Rose purred softly, her dreams a delicious memory, a cat treat for the brain. Exhausted from her nocturnal adventures, she knew nonetheless that there would be more, and soon.
It became a local myth. Many claimed to have seen her, a brown and white ghost cat at a kitten birth, leaving a rose quartz crystal behind.
A trend commenced. Feline owners began to buy rose quartz for their pet’s bed. Crystals were suddenly fashionable. Cats throughout the area enjoyed the soft energies of rose quartz, dreaming sweet fantasies and purring with untold pleasure.
Rose’s owners bought her a rose quartz. As she slept the rose quartz inside her was amplified tenfold. She slept deeply as her soul heard the cries of a tabby mother: tackling terror, understanding a quickly evaporating drop in her head. The tabby comprehended only confusion.
Rose purred invisibly beside her. As the kittens emerged, four perfect tabbies, a piece of rose quartz materialised in the bed. Rose retreated, as more cries reached her sleeping ears. It was going to be a long night.
Then one day, it all stopped. Rose’s dreams skipped past undisturbed. She turned over in bed, missing something that she had already forgotten.
In another room, in another town, a little boy jumped up and down in delight, then stood still as he was handed the new ginger kitten. “Rose! I will call her Rose!” he cried.
The kitten became his best friend. But little Rose had a secret. At night, she soul travelled to cats in need. Rose meowed piteously. Her secret burned hot inside. But just for today, she would be young, chasing fun all round the bedroom. Just for today, she would be a normal kitten. For tomorrow would soon come.
An older Rose climbed in to her bed several miles away, undreamt adventures awaiting. And just for today, nothing would disturb her. And all her tomorrows, she would now be free.
When she woke next morning, a new rose quartz crystal lay next to her. It was a kind of goodbye. Or a hello. Freedom licked her with its rough tongue. It was time to live, it was time to purr. But above all, it was time for breakfast. Feline priorities were never wrong. She ate her food hungrily, memories floating away on the whiskers of yesterday. Contentment claimed her rose quartz soul.