He was on his usual morning walk, never stepping on the possible sidewalk cracks or walking under sudden ladders, because, well, he was severely superstitious. It was a trait all his friends reminded him of, repeatedly, but he never could let go of.

He hadn't walked for long when a thin, sickly black cat walked across his path. She had been wandering the streets for a while. He yelped from surprise and made a quick U-turn to go home, as continuing the walk was now impossible.

Over the next couple of weeks, he couldn't finish a single one of his morning walks because of the black cat. To nobody's surprise, he wasn't pleased.

Finally one day, in a burst of courage, he went outside and found the black cat. She could recognize him at that point, having seen him so many times. He almost begged her to let him continue his morning walks and to move somewhere else. She just stared at him, blankly.

He sighed and turned towards his home again, swallowing the fact that he would lose his morning walks for the foreseeable future. This time the black cat started to follow him. He yelled at the cat, to try to scare her, to not follow him. She didn’t twitch her whiskers during the outburst.

He made his way to his apartment and, despite their many encounters before, let her in. He tried to convince himself it was mostly out of pity, but his neighbors could see otherwise over the next couple of months. Many of them could see him sometimes hauling bags of cat food home from the shop up the long stairs to his apartment. His clothes started to be chronically covered in black cat hair.

Over a year later, he was sitting on his balcony in his very comfortable chair. She had found her favorite spot quite quickly and it was to be curled up on his lap. He chuckled softly. "I never should have let her into the apartment."