
The Night Visitors
Though I say so myself, we’re a crack team: Tabby and the Ginger Ninja.
Midnight, Christmas Eve and I’m helping out with the washing-up – a late supper of scrambled eggs and mackerel – when Ginge takes a shine to the stuffed robin half-way up the Douglas fir dressed-to-kill in the corner. He’s clinging to the trunk, swiping a left hook, when the whole thing starts to topple. There’s a splattering of baubles, a shower of tinsel and we’re away before anyone can yell, ‘Timber!’
Bless my ruff and whiskers, Ginger has that robin nestled safely between his canines. What a team!
M J Lewis ©2015
If you’re reading this in bed on Christmas Eve and wondering about those odd noises downstairs, you’re probably okay – more likely Father Christmas knocking back the sherry than Tabby and Ginger up to no good.
A peaceful holiday to all who visit. Thanks to our host Rochelle and all the other folks here at Friday Fiction and to Scott L. Vannatter for the photo.
