My hands shook in the cold rain as I fumbled with the shovel handle as another flash of lightning illuminated the back deck’s leaf litter blanket. I gingerly took one step down, nervous about the open back of the staircase where the cat kept her hunting trophies, each one bigger than the last.
Photo by Kurayba
Jonas leaped over the barricade and wormed his way through an opening in the quarantine fence without being noticed, his stolen prize held tightly in his jaws.
Between panes of glass, choice slips away.
“But we have to keep warm,” Jake pleaded as he dropped a pile of blankets on the couch.
The world stuttered in a queer slant as I sat up.
