SOMEWHERE AT THE END OF THE STREET...
Nobody remembers when he arrived.
The cats remember everything.
Nobody remembers when MORKO moved into the old gray house at the edge of town. One morning the windows were empty. The next, a huge strange creature was sitting on the porch, holding a cat in his arms.
“At first, everyone was afraid of him. The cats knew better.”
Every morning MORKO walked through town carrying at least one cat. Slowly, people stopped running away when they saw him. Then the storm came.
“While everyone stayed inside, MORKO walked into the storm.”
The little house became bigger, stranger and warmer. Tiny beds covered the floors. Scratching posts stood beside old furniture. Somehow, there was always room for one more.
“Some creatures search for a home. Some creatures become one.”
Sleeps 19 hours a day. Complains about the remaining five.
Arrived during the storm. Has refused to leave.
Nobody remembers adopting him.
Not a cat.
No bright boxes. No shiny panels. Just four old stops on MORKO's road.
MORKO's strange little world appears.
The shelter grows and new corners open.
More stories, hidden details and visitors.
The house becomes larger than anyone expected.
THE DOOR IS OPEN
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