“Crashing to the ground and bouncing, I rolled until I came to a stop, staring up that the gradually brightening sky, panting with both pain and panic, relief and—frankly—terror at how close I'd come to turning myself into a bomb and painting the surrounding area.
I eventually managed to speak, taking in the cold, bright-blue sky as it was revealed high overhead.
"I hate that fucking cat," I whispered, meaning every damn word.”