Writing, and rewriting, scenes about monsters seemed like a good idea at the time. But now, lying in the dark, duvet pulled up past my chin, I hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet outside the door.
Tiny, furry feet.
Up and down the stairs, they disturb the floorboards and ornaments. I hear a clatter. A bang. I bury myself deeper, and wait for it to pass.
Then, all is still.
Perhaps it is over.
But it isn’t long until the silence is broken… a laugh from the baby’s room next door. The giggle of a plastic, wide-grinned child.
“Say something, and I’ll repeat it back to you in song!”
“Say something-”
The door creaks open…
Not quite terrifying beasts, but still little terrors.
An old piece of writing from 2018. Written about my Uncle’s cats while I was housesitting for them, but definitely still applies to any cats I’ve stayed with since! I’ll never forget my cousin’s baby toys laughing and beeping in the middle of the night, because apparently the cats enjoyed torturing my nerves.
