The last sentence of the last book

There are almost too many great things out there to explore, a cumbersome observation but a true one nevertheless. So many books, new and old, to read. So many works of art, new and old, to view. So many pieces of music, new and old to listen to. So many films, new and old, to see. I guess that I prefer it that way around. Can you imagine completing all of the above, reading the last sentence of the last book worth reading? "Finished!......What now?" I can't forsee that ever happening and that's why life is wondrous.

Forgot to mention yesterday that another strange thing happened. Was sitting on my bed yesterday evening, writing on this laptop around 7ish when a cat walked in to my room. It was the gingery one from the flat next door. I was fairly alarmed. Not a huge fan of cats. Especially if they come unannounced and uninvited into my room. I tried to 'shoo' it out but to no avail. It didn't seem to want to go back into the hallway of my building. I hate dealing with animals. I liken my unease to being equaly unable to talk to kids. I have a particular dislike of trying to 'babytalk'. It's not me, what can I say? I spent around 5 minutes in this bizarre confrontation. Eventually I trapped it in the hallway and nearly slammed my front door in its face. Next time, it may not be so fortunate to escape. I'm against cruelty to animals but I may have to make an exception next time.