There, a light shudders into shadow, stops.
And I wait.
In the corners and under the beds,
I patrol the places Kellas dreads.
Poor human! She is a mite dense.
Together we scare off the mice and the gents.
Ah, silence ruptures into movement, hops.
I am Fate.
What effrontery this creature shows!
Turpitude and idiocy, visiting foes!
Its tail is strangely long, seems to lack a head.
Oh, and its inconstancy in deciding to be dead!
But…now it moves no more. All is quiet.
Time for sweet dreams of an Atkins diet.
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