B&W PHOTOGRAPHY AND ART CONTEST - Silhouettes

Under the gentle glow of the November moon, a dark silhouette runs timidly along the gloomy street. At these times you can never be sure if it's a human or a cat. It was just a silhouette to me. Black-whitish, here and there flashing. I decided it must have been a woman - it was too small to be a man and too beautiful to be a cat. But, as I said before, you can never be sure.

I lit another cigarette and continued down the street. It was an ordinary street, without lamps, reeking of garbage, cheap girls and cigarette smoke. I loved those streets. In them, I was most vividly able to capture the fall of the world in which I lived. I walked with wide, confident steps all the way down this street. Something about her attracted me. Whether it was the unknown silhouette that ran almost invisibly past me or just the almost imperceptible crash of silence that I could no longer detect almost anywhere, I couldn't be sure. I think it was the woman... It was too late for the silence... But, as I said before, you can never be sure.

All the memories of those dark streets came flooding back to me. A furious tornado of copper curls, a divine symphony of touches of white fingers. White as the moon that shone above me. Did my silhouette girl have the same eyes?... I was already running, running with all my might towards her, throwing away the unsmoked cigarette. I ran without thinking. My footsteps echoed down the cobblestone street, people came out the windows to see that madman chasing a silhouette. They laughed at me, pointed fingers at me. And I didn't stop. I felt no fatigue, no fear, just that wild passion that a hunter feels when he pursues his prey. Then I felt her pass by me again. Small, black and whitish, here and there glinting under the silver rays of the moon. I reached out to her and touched her. I hid her in my silent embrace and wept softly. It was a cat!