With a glance at the clock, Anton wondered what to do with himself now that it was a little after 7 p.m.  Laziness had settled in almost as soon as he walked through the door over 10 hours ago.  Having endured the expected kitty scolding from Licorice, he made it a point to dote on her for as long as she’d allow it.  Naturally, yet unsurprisingly, said dotage lasted a while.  The long-since contented Persian was now sprawled on the favored bench, near the window.<br/><br/>Dinner consisted of Magdalene’s leftover taco fixings.  They were just too delicious to save for another day.  The few dishes there were had been washed and were drying in the dish rack.  Three of those items were Magdalene’s, which meant he’d have to see her again in order to return them.  Anton wondered if she might’ve done that on purpose, but then dismissed the thought.  After all, what else was she supposed to pack everything in?<br/><br/>Approaching his couch, he eyed<i>Johnny Alucard, </i>but chose to leave the novel where it was on the side table.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate where reading was concerned, so he turned on the stereo instead.  Volume reduced, he chose shuffle-play, not being able to choose a particular CD.  Now stretched out on the couch, it wasn’t long until he heard a soft, familiar<i>thud.  </i>Front paws on the cushion, Licorice stood like a meerkat, plotting her landing zone.  Anton’s chest was chosen, as usual, and she settled in.  Hands quickly found her ears and neck, and the purring began, while her eyes slowly closed.