Augury

One dismal gloaming while I was alone inside my cabin in the woods so deep, the wind whipped at my door; it seemed to moan. I imagined creatures and how they creep within the dark. Then suddenly I heard an owl’s hoot. I recalled what Mama said about three hoots from that nocturnal bird. It means “beware,” and then I heard with dread, another hoot. What danger might lurk near? I trembled mightily that blackened night in case a third hoot I should chance to hear. The third hoot sounded. I was fraught with fright. I could not sleep. Oh, would that owl hoot more? It’s then I heard the scratching at my door . . .