Good morning one and all. I woke up this morning thinking of waffles. I think maybe it is a hold over from the decadent holiday foods. I went back to my less rich and sugary daily fare with the holiday treats left behind and I think a part of my brain is still craving it. It was still a tasty dream. But back into reality we go. Shall we start the morning prompt? Fabulous. Let’s go.
I really like where this is going. I need to figure out more about the characters but I think it is the beginning of something I can work with.
Tuesday, January 3rd: A feather floated through the air.
A feather floated through the air. I watched it wart by gently following the flow of air from the heat vents. It looked like such a serene image. I sighed and looked down. This visual was less serene. There were still feathers and a few of them could be said to be floating through the air. Most of them were spilling out of the torn pillows. At first my thoughts went to Duncan. As a puppy he routinely went to war with the cushions stationed throughout the house. Pillows from the bed, decorative pillows. Couch cushions. My over active boxer had gone after them all. The scene in front of me reminded me so much of his puppy years that I found his name spring to my lips automatically.
I bit my lip before it could escape. My eyes flicked to the small urn of ashes containing Duncan’s remains. They were off to the side out of the path of destruction and still in the box from the pet crematorium. Mike and I were going to take them to the local dag park later in the week and release them. The box had not been touched.
Somehow I doubted the ghost of my dog returned to wreak havoc on my home one last time before departing to wherever good dogs went once they shook off the mortal coil. I backed slowly towards the door. My steps were quiet, stealthy as I backed out and returned to the front porch.
The house felt empty but I felt a little caution was called for. I slowly closed the door behind me until I was looking at my own front door.
Now what?
Police.
I continued backing away from my door until I was standing in the yard. When there was a break in people called the police. That was standard procedure, right? I pulled out my cell phone and looked at it for a moment. Then I looked back at my front door. It was now a good eight feet away from me.
Why would someone break into my house? And why would they destroy cushions? I could understand if the electronics were missing, but my laptop was still in my car and from what I could see my television and stereo remained in place. If the portable electronics were still in place then someone came into my house looking for something else. Something I might have hidden in the couch cushions.
I frowned. I was not someone who would hide things in cushions. If I was going to hide something my first choice would be a safe deposit box. Let anyone attempting to steal it deal with the bank’s security rather than break into my home. It was why my grandmother’s jewelry was in fact in a safe deposit box at that very moment. However other than a few odd bits of inherited jewelry, there was nothing I had that was of real value.
Hiding something like that was really Mike’s sort of thing.
It was exactly like his sort of thing.
I unlocked my cell phone and instead of calling the police I called Mike’s number. The phone rang once, twice and then was picked up.
“Hello,” A voice said. It wasn’t Mike’s.
“Hello, I am looking for Mike, Mike Devereaux? Did I dial the wrong number?”
“No, ma’am, this is Mike’s phone.” A cold shiver ran down my spine.
Ten til Midnight 