“Hello cat! Balancing your arse on the window sill again. You need to lose weight…Pot and kettle…I know!!”
What are you chirping at? Ah, I see, the birds, how ironic!” Someone should have heard that, it was mildly amusing.
“You don’t need to puff up you idiot, I see him. What do you think? Breakdown or directions?”
Where the fuck is he going, the front door is this way.
“You wait here, he’s around the side of the building.”
“Hello there, have you a problem?” Who the fuck is this prick!?
“No.”
Be nice. “…Can I help you?” Oh shit. Look at his eyes…There’s no-one home.
“Why?”
Why? Fucking ‘Why’? “Well, this is my house”.
Calm down! Deep breath and smile “…I saw you coming into my garden but you haven’t rung the bell, so is there something that I can help you with?”...That’s better, nice and polite.
“Do you know John Morgan?”
“No. But I’m well acquainted with Captain Morgan.” A joke…Really!
“I don’t know him.”
Walk him towards the front path, good, he’s following. “Look mate, what are you doing in my garden…And why are you eating the gravel?”
“I’m here to kill John Morgan.”
What…The…Fuck! “…O…K…Emm, John Morgan doesn’t stay here, there’s only me…You know I’m not John Morgan…Don’t you?”
“Of course.
Thank fuck for that!!
He stays up there, at the steeple.”
“That’s the church in the NEXT village. Craigwell? Is that where he is?”
“Yes. That’s where I was dropped off…
…From the fucking mother-ship!
And that is where he is. I must kill him.”
That’s twice he has used the ‘K’ word. I could be in trouble here. “Does anyone know that you are outside? Do you want me to call someone?”
“No.”
He’s a lot smaller that me. “Are you sure. Is there someone who looks after you?”
“No.”
Make one move pal and I’ll hit you as fucking hard as I can…Then run inside and lock the door and phone…
“Look, you seem confused. I think you need help. Let me call the Police, they’ll help you.”
“The Police? You mean the men in the white vans?”
Are you kidding me? “Well yes!”
“NO! Not them! Are you a man in a white van?”
“No I am a man in a white coat.” Fuck!! Think what you are saying you idiot!
“Are you the Police?”
“No. I’m a baker!” Great idea, keep making jokes you clown!!
“I need to get to that steeple.”
“That’s no problem. Just walk out the gate, turn right and keep walking. You’ll get there very soon.” Five miles isn’t far and as long as you get to fuck away from me!
“WHAT’S THAT?”
“Jesus! You don’t need to scream! What, oh that, that’s just the cat, she likes to sit on the sill looking out the window.”
“Will it hurt me?”
Not unless she turns into a much needed Rottweiler! “No. You’re fine. She’s in there and you’re safe out here. As long as you stay outside you’ll be OK. ” If that fucking pyscho comes outside I’ll kill her. Oh that’s great, now use the ‘P’ word.
“Are you sure?”
Of course I am you maniac. “Yes. Now take that out your mouth. Stop nibbling the foliage, it may be poisonous.” With any fucking luck!
“I must go.”
“I wouldn’t want to hold you back.” Now fuck off. Fuck off. Off you should fuck!
“Where do I go?”
“Out the gate, turn right and keep walking.” I’m not drawing you a map!
“I need to get to John Morgan. I need to get to the steeple.”
You need to get to fuck. “Well it’s been nice talking to you, you may be lucky and catch a bus.”
“…Bus?”
Oh great, start another conversation you idiot man…I loathe me! “Never mind. Now out the gate, turn right and keep walking.” And you can take that branch with you…It’ll give you a snack for the journey.
“…Keep it away! Keep it away!!”
“It’s only the mad cat…Get back in the house!!” Mad, that’s just perfect, use that word you tool! I knew that little shit would come out!
“NO! Keep it away!”
“That’s it, she won’t follow you if you keep going!”
…The cat’s a Rottweiler, and I’m ok. I’m not shaking. I’ll be fine. I’m fine. I’m fine…Where’s my phone?
“…Out the gate, turn right and keep running…”
literally stories 
Hi Hugh, There is a great sense of panic in this, like an every day occurrence around here. White vans searching out space cadets, a great and mad idea. I don’t understand why the Eye in the sky has abandoned their ‘Buckfast’ warriors, perhaps the Mother Ship has left the building. I’m looking forward to the next episode, ‘Saving John Morgan’,
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Thanks James, it is always a pleasure to read your comments.
I do wonder if I did revisit John Morgan whether or not he would survive!
Thanks as always my friend.
Hugh
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I enjoyed this compelling story, Hugh, and especially because you featured a cat who chirped. I’m partial to cats, especially when they show their belly, Is there anything sweeter than a cat’s tummy? Anyway, do bring all three of your characters back again. Always, June
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Thanks June, it has been a while since I wrote anything, so it was fun to do so again.
Cat’s bellies can only be bettered by a German Shepherd pup’s ears!!
Even after such a long lay-off you still comment!!
Thanks so much!!!
Hugh
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Love it. But how the hell did one of my cats get on your window sill?
L. Allison
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Sorry Leila, I missed this.
Thanks for your continual support.
And cats are universal, they are all weird psychotic and shape shifters!!
Hugh
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Fun story, Hugh. I love how you use internal dialogue to dramatise an ordinary occurrence. There is real tension, given the stranger’s apparent hair trigger and his aversion to cats.
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Hi Amita,
Thanks so much for seeking out another old one of mine – I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that and the kind comments!!
You have been busy commenting and myself, Diane and Leila all send you our thanks. New comments keeps the site alive. (I wish there were more like you!!)
Hugh
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