After reading

The cat spread on the book in front of me. That book was my Bible, but I suppose I was done reading for the day. I cannot say I was still contemplating the words, but I was not ignoring them either, but perhaps I was expecting them to bounce inside me until something happened. What happened was the cat, who lay across the open words and rolled onto his back and looked up at me expectant.
    I obliged. I stroked his fur and bent my head to listen to him purr. I made a humming sound as I breathed in.
    Then I coughed, and suddenly felt the rawness in my throat I realized had been there some time. The cough, slight though it was, shook the cat, and he looked at me a moment, I was sure with the pinched look of the irritated. But cats can't make that face, can they? Or do they was look so when they stop purring?
    I bent my head against his.face, feeling the loose fur mingling with my beard. The purr returned. I lifted the cat up to my chest and listened.
    There were no other sounds but the fan and the scrape of my feet against the floor. My coffee sat cooling in its cup, and the cat and I waited for God to speak.