The Cat Sat On The Mat

It might have been stuffed, but for the fact that its tail occasionally twitched back and forth. Through half-closed eyes, it surveyed the room around it.

A small stove in one corner crackled with the sound of burning wood. Beside it, some wet clothes had been hung up to dry: a rather naff wooly jumper, some tattered blue jeans, a pair of off-white socks.

Below the grimy window, a sink was piled high with dirty dishes. The cat really wasn't in the mood to wash dishes right now, but it could hear a faint scratching sound coming from just outside the window.

The cat yawned, stretched nonchalantly and padded across the room. Leaping up on the counter, it peered through the one clean window pane.

What it saw made its hair stand on end.