I.

There is a house in Florence which is called Witch's House, and it is a mostly normal house, as susceptible to flood as any other. Its walls are old but its windows are new and through them both looks a cat named Claire. Claire has gray hair, and pointy teeth.

Every day Claire and her littermates pick the vegetables from the floorboards (they grow not because the floors are so dirty, but because it is a Witch's House), then polish the floors with India ink to make them shiny black.

Claire is licking ink from her paws when her last brother, Nuage, is adopted. She watches from under the Witch's umbrella as he walks into the rain. His adoptor is a man in a suit, who is not laughing, and who without an umbrella is dripping, every inch of him, yet he's not perturbed.

Now Claire is the only cat left in the Witch's House, and she has to pick all the vegetables out of the floor by herself. She can lift fifteen rutabagas plus two potatoes at once with her telekinesis. She can't lift candles while keeping them upright, so she has to balance one on her head to see well. (There are no electric things in the Witch's House — they tend to act up around magic.)

The Witch walks in with a basket, into which Claire dumps the veggies. Then the Witch pinches the candle out, and they bask in darkness together. It's really emo! Claire sits in the Witch's lap. Fur and dress are slick with ink.

"When will I be given away?" Claire asks telepathically. (She can't talk with her mouth because she has a cat mouth and not a bird or human mouth.)

"Never, I should think," answers the Witch.

"Why not?"

"I'd like a cat of my own, and your mother only visits when you catch mice..."

Claire moves onto the floor and goes to sleep. Cats fall asleep easily. Her dreams surround her in a cloud. Starlight flows through the inky floor.