The night has grown old and dark, and save for the meowing cat from the neighbour upstairs, the streets have dulled to comforting silence. My eyelids weigh heavy over my drowsy eyes as I struggle to type in the last paragraph of my new shaky novel. But alas, I can bear the fatigue no longer.
“Meow,” the cat’s soothing whisper drifts in through the open window by the side of my desk.
I give up, so I flick the study lamp off and put the monitor to sleep. On my bed, the sheets are a warm and welcoming comfort. The dense mattress massages my aching back, and the soft pillow assuages my troubled mind.
“Meow.”
I take a deep breath and turn to reach for my sleeping wife. The rhythm of her steady breathing and warmth of her body lull my wandering mind and drift me to slumber.
“Meow.”
I open my eyes. That sounded closer than it should have.
“Meow.”
I stop breathing. It sounded closer still.
“Meow.”
I check on my wife. She’s still asleep. A light tap on my desk forces me up for a quick look.
“Meow.”
The soft moonlight filters in through the window.
“Meow.”
Its soft glow illuminates a dark silhouette crouching on my desk. Its eyes glow in the dark.
“Meow.”
I rub my eyes and take a keener look. The cat is bigger than it should be.
“Meow.”
That’s no cat. It sinks back into the shadows, making its way out the window. As it disappears into the moonlight, I can make out its face.
“Meow.”
It looks back at me with a wide grin before winking and disappearing down the fire escape.
“Meow.”
