The Breath of Night, flash fiction by Karen Southall Watts at Spillwords.com

The Breath of Night

The Breath of Night

written by: Karen Southall Watts

@askkaren

 

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

Mark glared at his wife who was still fussing with arranging a fuzzy blanket in a box. She got the folds to her liking and then tickled the belly of the black kitten that was purring loud enough to be heard across the room.

“I mean I am not going to your work party, Mark. I’m sorry, but I told you days ago I didn’t want to go, and you said it was fine.”

“Yeah, but I forgot you not going meant I couldn’t have a beer or two. Who’s going to drive me home?”

Grace rolled her eyes. While she didn’t mind the occasional party, tonight she just wanted to hand out a few treats to the neighborhood kids, and then shut off the porch light early. With Mark out schmoozing his coworkers, she could cuddle up with some herbal tea, her new kitten, and a good book.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Just call a cab or a car service. Take the cash out of my purse and remember to tip this time.”

Satisfied, despite hating the itchy beard that turned him into Abe Lincoln for the evening, Mark was ready to head out. Grace hadn’t blinked an eye at his wanting to drink and had even provided him with some extra spending money. Knowing her she’d be in bed on time tonight despite the holiday so she could do her damn morning yoga, Mark geared up for a night of fun without his wife. He was out the door before Grace had filled the tea kettle.

“Well, what should we do first, Umbra?”

The doorbell rang, and Grace scooped up the tiny kitten and nuzzled her fluffy head. Carrying her in one hand, she opened the door to the sounds of giggles.

“Trick or Treat!” The kids from next door and across the street squealed with delight when they saw the tiny kitten. They almost forgot about the candy because they were so busy asking “Can we pet her?”

Graced waved at the parents standing a few feet away as she handed out sweets. Umbra stayed quiet, but her needle-like claws were fastened tightly onto Grace’s sweater. She put the kitten back in the box with a few treats and a stuffed toy and decided to do the next few rounds alone. In between trips to the door, Grace poured herself a cup of herbal tea and refilled Umbra’s water bowl. After a couple of hours, the youngest trick-or-treaters were done and she snapped off the porch light.

While Grace and Umbra were getting settled onto the sofa under a quilt, Mark was settling into the backseat of a car with Ashley, or maybe it was Amy, from the sales department. Whoever she was she was dressed in a French maid outfit and dangerous black high heels. Sometime after the maid had toddled off, turns out it wasn’t her car, Mark’s friends found him and poured him into a cab. They prepaid his fare and tipped generously. The poor cabbie was going to earn every penny.

After finishing half of her book, and preparing some spiced warm milk, that she shared, Grace was ready to turn in for the night. She played a rousing game of catch-the-string with Umbra and then tucked the sleepy kitten into her box. Leaving the door unlocked for Mark, she set about her nighttime routine.

Mark realized he was on his front porch when he knocked over the little display of pumpkins and gourds next to the door. He struggled to his feet and grabbed the door knob. Unlocked. Thank God.

He might not remember exactly how he got home, but Mark did realize he smelled of booze and sex, so he stripped off his clothes, throwing them on the floor of the bathroom, and flopped onto the sofa. He covered up with Grace’s quilt and promised himself he’d just take a quick nap. If he could shower and dump everything in the laundry before Grace noticed, he could escape the nagging.

Mark felt a deep rumbling all through his body. He assumed it was the impending effects of his latest binge, and carefully opened his eyes. Sitting on his chest, purring so hard she was vibrating, was Umbra.

“Get off me, cat, before I puke.”

As Mark was trying to decide if he had the energy to throw the animal to the ground, and how mad Grace might be if she found out, Umbra’s eyes began to glow red. The kitten stopped purring and opened her little mouth wide. Mark tried to hold his breath, but it was useless. By morning, the red mist was gone and rigor mortis had set in.

After the EMTs and neighbors were gone, Grace moved the kitten’s box into the bedroom. Umbra scratched her way up from the cardboard box to the pillow on the left side of her mistress’ bed, where she would happily lounge for many years to come.

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