The Visitor

Hearing a noise she froze, listening, alert. She must not be found here. The boy startled her anew as his nose pressed against the window suddenly, squeaking against the cold pane.

She needed him to open the window, to climb out over the ledge to her so she could play with him but he just sat on the end of his bed, nose pressed against the glass, squinting out into the night. She sighed.

Obviously hearing a noise from beyond the bedroom door he turned his head and listened intently, then a muffled ‘Yes Daddy’ as he slid off the bed and toddled towards the bedroom door.

She sat in the tree, head slightly on one side as she wondered if he was coming back.

Time passes slowly when you are sitting in the arm of giant branches just waiting for someone or something but after a little while, the boy returned to the room and jumped back under his duvet, sitting cross legged with a sandwich grasped tightly between chubby fingers.

She softly tapped on the window. She was hungry too.

The boy remembered she was there and scooted to the window again and slid back the bolt. She sat eagerly waiting for him to join her.

Tommy closed the window again. It had been a bit of trouble persuading her to come inside but the promise of sandwich had done it. He scrunched back down in his bed, pulling the duvet up and over his head, creating a tent under which lay the tabby cat, licking her paws clean of peanut butter spread. It was much warmer in here.

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