the cat is a predator.

 It is now five in the afternoon, and the afternoon was spent in sleep since two in the afternoon. There was a seriously drowsy time before and after the midday meal and then a walk home with a few pauses to rest and then hurry upstairs, lie down and fall asleep. 
Perhaps it is the fault of the cat, the cat calling at two in the morning plaintively from the concrete of the back yard. The wife had locked her out. Downstairs, and let the animal in. Her highness the haughty cat walked in tail errect, with measured pace, and then scuttled upstairs hurriedly. It was not really cold outside, but the cat wanted to be inside among all the soft cushions of the couch,

It was difficult to return to sleep after this disturbance.

But still, it should be possible to maintain a sense of wakefulness during the day.

The son is downstairs in his room, he is preparing himself for his examination on the coming Saturday. He is sitting for a repeat of an examination at which he had not done so well some time ago.

The light is failing already, things are slowly turning to the dark unpleasant side of the year.

The cat is asleep somewhere downstairs, but the cat is a predator. The rest of the beings in the house are omnivores.

Later there will be time to visit the artist in his Studio opposite. He will have excuses again, but the gist of it all will be that all things are more important than the time of the photographer.

This morning the book of photographs for the newlywed niece and her husband went on its way, starting at the local post office.