We Buy Cats -

Behind a high mahogany counter sat a man who looked like he was made of lint—grey suit, grey hair, and a soft, static-filled voice.

The man smiled, a slow, thin expression. "No, madam. For their stories. You see, a cat is a living record of every secret told in a kitchen at midnight. They are the only creatures that witness the things we think no one sees." we buy cats

He leaned forward. "We don't keep them. We listen to them. We have a 'Translator' in the back—a machine of tubes and velvet. Once we’ve downloaded their memories of sunbeams and human whispers, we return them to the 'seller' with a generous check and a bag of premium tuna." Behind a high mahogany counter sat a man