Poetry and Short Stories

Nemesis

I found it sitting on my desk, staring at me with eyes as black as the night between stars. Silent. Motionless. Evil. Large pink ears stuck out from its head like malicious radars, siphoning every sound into its gargantuan brain and soft fur, grey with white speckles, coated its body. Fur that begged to be touched. Stroked. Cuddled.

I sat in my chair and stared back at it while I struggled with my socks. I swear it laughed at me, though I heard no sounds.

Evil. Pure evil. And it had landed on my desk.

I dragged my pants onto my shuddering body and picked the monstrosity up by a tuft of its fur and flung it out the open window onto the newly mown lawn.

A soft step caused me to stiffen and turn. Behind me, an innocent child took her thumb from her mouth and said: “Dad? Where’s my Furby?”