We've been getting visits from a stripy cat lately, whose forelegs and paws remind me instantly of Angela Carter's short story 'The Tyger's Bride'.
And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin; all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur.
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