Once, I returned home past midnight and saw a cat outside the car park. I stopped to pet it, then continued heading home. Throughout the walk, a rancid, pungent poop smell dogged me. I thought I had stepped on dog poop, so I didn’t think much about it, especially since the smell disappeared when I was in my room.
Fast forward to the next morning, when my late dad told me I brought back something ‘dirty’ because it took a liking to him and sat on his bed till dawn. I had checked on my dad when I got home, so the ‘thing’ that followed me apparently stayed in his room to ‘admire’ him until he got rid of it. He got up to say the call of prayer and chased it away.
