Eight years ago, we had a furry cat, named Musya. The name of the cat was given by the daughter, the cat was deeply poffed on the name. And the cat is no longer that, but the story alone I remember strongly.

Moussa liked to sleep in the refrigerator that stood in the hallway. And he liked to eat at night, for which he jumped out of the refrigerator and, cuddling his nails, went to the kitchen.

That day I went to bed a little later than usual, like watching a movie, I don’t remember. And here, I lie down, dive into sleep, gradually fall asleep. I hear the noisy newspapers on the refrigerator, the light sound of the cat’s legs hitting the floor, the cuddling of the nails, the sound of which typically changes along the way to the kitchen. I think I had to eat again at night. Here the dream disappears. And this is why: for a couple of months in the summer, my wife, daughter and cat went to the village and there is no living soul in the apartment besides me.

To say that the dream flew away from me in an instant is to say nothing. I woke up immediately and was covered by the cold afterwards. A silence surrounded by the beating of my heart.

I am an intelligent adult with a physical and mathematical mindset. I don't believe in any mysticism, I was loudly outraged in my head.

I dreamed of all this! I continued, nervously pressing my fingers, trying not to move under the sweat-moist blanket.

“Well, no one,” I will say when I go into the kitchen and turn on the light, “I rehearsed a speech and laughed humbly.

It lasted 120 to 240 seconds. I did not count.

Then he got up. Turn on the light. Turn on the light in the hallway. I walked into the kitchen, switching on the lights. He nodded his head, spared his dignity and did not laugh at himself.

There was nobody. No cat, no domestic, no foreign gremlins, nothing.

He slept again. Since he was no longer asleep, he turned on the phone a book and began to read, sometimes listening to the silence of the night.