A thing that keeps coming to mind – probably as often as I’m minded to look at a cat in a certain way: I read an online Q&A piece on some general cat problems (I could look this up again, but I like, don’t I always?, the manifestation of it that now lives in my head) and one person wrote how they’d needed to shoo their cat off the bed, or suchlike, and that the cat had then stayed away from the house for the whole of the day. Were the two connected and was the cat therefore angry with them? The reply was lovely. No, it said, the cat’s not angry with you. You’re not that important.
In that line I saw the film director’s montage of disaster clips – great civilisations toppling; a sun implodes; the Hindenburg doing its thing. I think about it a lot, as I say. The set-up and response, I mean. Not just because I might be staring at a cat at the time, but also because I aspire to create that deliciousness of comic drama.