Black Cats and Psalms

Dear Heart,
After a trip to the pharmacy (where, incidentally, I bought hair slides) I picked up cupcakes for Siân and me. On the way over I bumped into a beautiful black cat who wore her white paws like socks and dinner gloves. She was very sweet to me, and we walked part way up Flora Street together. When we parted she weaved in and out of my legs as if she were braiding us together, and rubbed her head against me. I miss her now. I suppose that's silly.
I ate my cupcake halves curled up by Siân's radiator and plucked this little guy off the top of one. I don't like the taste of Love Hearts, but I've always thought them the nicest of things. I'm happy they exist, even if I don't care for the taste. Does that make sense?
Love, Lydia x