Conversation From a Warm Bed On a Cold Night
‘Listen. The shed door’s banging in the wind.’
‘I heard it. I was just going down to fix it.’
‘You were not.’
‘I was. I was just thinking about it.’
‘You were not. God, listen to that wind, will you?’
‘I’ll go.’
‘No, I’ll go. You stay there.’
(Pause)
‘Have you fastened the door?’
‘I have.’
‘Was everything alright?’
‘It was not.’
‘Why, what was wrong?’
‘That cat.'
'What cat?'
'The one that doesn’t belong to us.’
‘The wild one?’
‘That’s the one. She was in the shed.’
‘It’s a rough night.’
‘She’s made herself real comfortable. On the sacking someone left in the corner.’
‘Who could blame her? On a night like this?’
‘And she’s produced a little family all of her own.’
‘Oh.’
‘Hmm.’
(Silence)
‘It’s my belief...'
'Yes?'
'It's my belief you left the door open. Deliberate.’
‘I did not.’
‘Knowing full well she had a bellyful of kits.’
‘I did not.’
(Silence)
‘Well, it’s a rough night, alright.’
‘It is.’
‘I fastened the door up, anyways.’
(Quietly)
‘Thank you.’
Copyright © Deborah Alexander | Year Posted 2019
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