An Interrupted Winter Night

They sat, enjoying one another's company in the soft warmth of the fireplace. Its golden glow projected out into their cozily furnished living room. Bouncing from wall to wall, the shadowy wisps presented the only light in the cabin. Curled up snugly on a stack of pillows, they traded familiar stares, uttering not a sound for fear of disturbing the sweet serenity of the evening. All was silent save for the crackle of burning logs. A stray ash escaped from the fire on occasion, stirred by a cool breeze from the open flue. A holiday tree, now dry and lifeless after its season had passed, stood in one corner; an ancient grandfather clock in another, rhythmically counted down the seconds of the cold winter night.

There they sat, her eyes fluttering and skin tingling as they traded soft nuzzles.

Breaking the calm atmosphere as terrifically as a strike of lightning, two belligerent figures burst through the heavy oak door of the cabin. Their stumbling shuffle inside had barely registered with the couple before they had fallen back to the ground. An empty bottle escaped the female's hand while the man, surprisingly aware of their audience by the fire, struggled to bring them both back to their feet.

“Let’s go upstairs, baby,” the female snarled in a guttural, cigarette-scarred voice. Her companion, obviously excited at the proposition, completed their difficult task of standing before collapsing back to the floor in a fit of giggles.

A questioning “meow” arose from the lady by the fire, as she turned her attention back to her companion with a quizzical look.

The soft tabby cat simply meowed back - a confused little sound, as if to say, “Don't look at me. I don’t know what’s going on either.”