The palace in Alexandria has a rule that nobody remembers writing: wherever the queen walks, the royal cats walk too. This afternoon pixel Cleopatra crosses the sun-warmed courtyard on her way to dinner, and one cat after another falls in behind her, tails held high. By the time she reaches the middle of the courtyard, the servants have a name for the daily spectacle: Whisker Court.
Every fresh fish left on the polished stone tempts another cat into the line, and the procession speeds up a little with every snack. Painted palace walls surround the courtyard, so one wrong turn ends the stroll, and so does stepping on a royal tail. Now and then a golden bowl of cream appears for a few moments, the finest treat in the kingdom. How long can the line of cats grow before the dinner bell rings?










