|
marg
 |
Right.. here is my contribution, which ain't brilliant but DOES conform to the rules - there's always a first for everything !
------------
On Tuesday, like every other day, he walked home past her gate, slowing down to gaze over the fence at the front with a wistful look; the lane took a bit of a turn just there, so that he could actually stand in the shadow of the trees, without being seen from the distant house. No luck – today there was no sight of her, so he slowly walked on, casting the occasional glance back in case she suddenly appeared.
He realised that he was again hearing the sound of horses' hooves in his head and the rattling sound of a heavy cart, or carriage, going very fast. He’d been hearing this, off and on, for some time now, mostly when he walked down the lane, but also at other times when he thought about her, but today he started wondering whether perhaps there was some way he could block the noise ?
By the time he got home it was nearly dark. He picked up the mail and, after a quick scan for any urgent bills, dropped it on the coffee table in the lounge before making his way to the kitchen. Theodore was curled up on a chair, but lifted his head as he entered to give him a malign stare. For some reason, tonight Theodore (aka Teddy when he was a kitten) looked strange, anomalous - someone he didn’t know and certainly not the cat that normally greeted him every morning with a fish-breathed kiss when he was trying to sleep. He shrugged and opened a tin of cat food; Theo didn’t move from the chair, just watched him.
Shrugging again at the weird ways of cats, he made a mug of coffee, went back to the lounge and settled down on the sofa. He tried switching on the TV, but the screen was just a snowstorm, possibly due to some bad weather somewhere, so half thankfully, he picked up the Farmers Weekly, even though the light in the lounge wasn’t really bright enough for reading. There was a lovely article on page 5 about a Jersey heifer that had recovered after having jumped over something when she was chased by a dog and a full page ad on page 8 for some company calling themselves AEON (which he laughingly guessed at being an acronym for After Every Other Notion [ ~failed]), which promised to deliver you from ‘phonetic disturbances caused by inharmonious souls and midnight women’, but had a disclaimer in very small print stating that ’30 Oct-2 Nov Not Inc’.
A moth fluttered against the light; a large moth. He put the paper down for a moment, while he considered the odds of having a large moth flying around inside the house at the end of October. Suddenly, there was a thrash of movement behind the sofa, followed by the crunching of chitin, and shortly after Theodore leapt onto the arm of the sofa, with part of a diaphanous wing still stuck to his lower jaw, emanating hostility to anything that moved and seeming to personify a cold, calculating death.
He shook his head and slowly got to his feet, picking up the empty coffee mug in one hand and lifting Theo in the other. Making his way to the kitchen, he put down the mug before unlocking the back door and dropping the startled cat outside on the steps that led down to the dark, shadowy garden, then humming quietly to himself, he went to bed, looking forward to pleasant dreams but hearing the hooves still coming closer…
--------------
Thanks, Rebel, I had fun doing this, even if it took me forever 
|
