I wait...
As the minutes go by my heart beats faster. The phone isn't vibrating, the birds have stopped singing, my patience becoming endless like a long meandering road. One that stretches between valleys, along rivers and around mountains.
I remember that day. It was the hottest day of my existence. We had a picnic in the middle of no-where, hidden behind lush green bushes in a place which could only be described as a royal garden because thats what it looked like and that is where we were. Now that I think about it, something about this particular memory keeps a hold on me. Always making me think of those moments in the seconds I get distracted, not letting me go back to reality.
The reality is that I'm currently living in a house which only has one resident and tones of pretty photo frames. The creak of the front door opening pulls me out of my reverie making me forget the unusual. I had bolted all the doors and windows. Not out of fear but out of cautiousness. Curiousity sneaks into me where it should have stopped existing, like a spark in ashes burnt years ago.
I'm very careful. I know the house I've lived in inside out for as long as I can remember. I act sharp as a knife, smooth as a ninja and cleverly like a detective as well as being discrete like a spy. Maybe nows not the time for modesty for I know that my intruder is possibly more skillful than me. In situations like this it's best to wait. and wait is what exactly what I did.
My eyes follow him as he exits through the back door. He's good at this I'll admit it. too calm and composed. Any thief will have some lingering tension. Was it over confidence? No. No one in this field will make the mistake of underestimating me. If he didn't take anything... Did he leaving something behind? If its a bomb then I can relax as soon as I've found it. If something other than it there may be a problem.
I make my way to ground floor where the kitchen is. The intruder had not come upstairs; so was going through the kitchen a natural route to take for someone on their way to the theatre for a date?
His silent path planted questions that only fueled my rage. Anger surged through me making my hunger flare up. I glare at my fridge where a a green note had been placed under a broken magnet in the shape of a cat. On the rich thick paper four words were written in elegant italic handwriting.
Curiosity Killed The Cat.
I refuse to be that cat. I'm a fierce kitten that has just been challenged by a simple warning.
Another note was placed beside the first placed under a beautiful magnetic Lion. This particular one making me put some belief within the intruder.
What if you've never been the kitten to grow into the silly cat that gets into trouble? What if you've always been the King of the Jungle.
