Cindy had three beers that evening and soon felt relaxed and at home. The nervous cats ventured as far as the doorway, but didn’t come outside. “Oh you silly cats, it’s so nice out here. Come and join me why don’t you.” she said and patted her lap. ‘Meoooow, ow ow” was the only response she got. As she finished her third beer, Cindy yawned. It had been a long tiring three days. “Oh well, time for bed” she said as she took one last lingering look at the beautiful Kansas countryside.
It was still fairly early, but Cindy was tired. She got ready for bed, talking to her dead husband while she did so. “Jeff, why do I feel so close to you here? I doubt you have ever been to Kansas, but I feel you beside me. Maybe it’s a sign that I should stay here. Orange County is for young people. Could it be Kansas is where I belong? Who needs to chase storms? The thought of chasing them brought me here, but maybe the beauty and tranquility of the countryside is what will make me stay.”
Cindy read for a little while before turning the light out and going to sleep. Noodle and Twister sat in the window and watched the ‘Dance Macabre’ in the cornfield. They didn’t like the images the silvery moon illuminated. They watched with eyes wide open, keeping a vigil all night long, well Noodle did.
Cindy was awoken the following morning by the howls of her youngest kitty, Noodle. The howls were loud and sad, echoing throughout the house. “What ever is wrong with you” she said as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Cindy sat up and looked across the room to where the soulful sound came from. Noodle stood over Twister, who lay motionless on her side, her cat eyes wide open, gazing into space. Cindy got out of bed quickly. “Twister, Twister, what ever is wrong with you.” Noodle looked at Cindy and howled again. Twister would never howl again.
“Oh no, oh my poor baby. The journey was too much for a thirteen year old. Oh my poor Twister, I killed you.”
Cindy stroked her furry companion and cried. She picked up the bewildered Noodle and held her close, tears soaking her fur. Noodle hissed as she looked out of the window. As dawn broke, the three scarecrows took their place in the field, their evil done for the night. One of them smiled and looked at Noodle and whispered.
“Your turn next”.
I am a budding author, a late bloomer, and my first novel ‘Dead of July’ will be released in the fall. Watch out for it. A crazy Brit, moved to the US, becomes a crazy author. I aim to please, thrill and amuse.