meet: Dave, Harry, Louise & a cat – read about their strange menage

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Dave was a roofer by day, at night he was someone else entirely – he was a brutal killer.

 

Dave liked birds, never cats. He made do when he must for the sake of a shag. Louise was so cool and always a laugh.

 

They’d met years ago, one night. He’d been prowling, on the pull – out for a kill. She’d killed him first, a stake to the heart.

 

She had a cat. It was unfortunate. But the cat kept its distance, as if it knew it wasn’t top of the tree, except when it climbed one.

 

Then, to Harry, their mild mannered friend. Always so sweet, so polite. But he is a demon. And it’s his nature to hunt.

 

Now: Dave was out prowling, Harry was hunting and Louise was dressed up for a glittering ball. Well a work presentation.

 

And it’s Saturday, a day full of laughs, not quite evening but still that bewitched few hours that last and last.

 

Giggling and swaying atop spiked heels, Louise was a tower ready to fall. Her crown slipped, later that afternoon.

 

In a grim room of nine by ten – they had done it. Panting and sweating, a momentary bliss. All over by 3pm with a half-hearted kiss.

 

Soiled on the outside and hiding stains within, each crept away; as if they’d never been. But, someone had seen. Or rather something.

 

Two eyes blinked in the cool dusky light and continued to stalk on scents of more prey. Later, there would be an exchange.

 

Sharing tit for tats and switching sides. Animals and demons are always easy friends.

 

It came with a howl, the betrayal, announced over dinner by a petulant cat. He knew where she’d been, what she’d done & with what.

 

He screeched it all out. Wails hit the walls. There were scratches and bites. He was put out –

 

Louise trembled and quivered but her secret was safe. Dave hated cats,,,

 

So they lived fairly happy, making ends meet. Dave kept on killing and the cat kept on living.

 

Oh but demons do have hearts and his was trapped so they met every Saturday afternoon. In a grim little room.

 

They sweated and panted and never swore love. Louise knew it, though, deep down and in every part of her.

 

And still Harry kept on hunting – because his nature overruled his heart.

~~~~

  *menage is a French word and relates to a household

And the ‘something that saw’ is up to your imagination! But even cats & demons like to gossip…

Lizzie HW

 

 

 

 

 

 

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