Short Stories

The Unexpected Guest

I sat on the end of the sofa, picking at the tassels of the cushion that I clutched to my chest. I peered at it. It showed no signs of moving nor reacting to the hussle and bussle of the busy streets just footsteps away. What was it doing? I sighed and took in the scenery outside. The lush,warm light associated with the sun was far gone, replaced with the eerie lights of slowing cars preparing for the traffic ahead. And the dull farm house on the hill now engulfed in darkness as everyone readied for sleep.

I glanced at the small digital clock beside me, clearly reading 10pm. I once again peered outside to be greeted by a flash of burgundy orange,it stuck out like a sore thumb, like a wolf among sheep. Yet, as I watched it, it was clear that this was a usual occurrence. It was obvious to me that although on its own it would be spotted but, as it wound through stomping feet and bustling crowds it would be able to slip into nothingness. Everyone too busy to care or react.

I took in its appearance; its graceful trot from area to area, its long black snout and its piercing eyes, ones that I can still visualise to this day. Its vibrant tail almost like a bush of fire. These were the distinctive traits of a red fox. But why was it here?
Why so close and full of courage?

I leant closer to the window, mesmerised by what I was seeing. Not only had another appeared but a whole family of foxes, coats blazing red like the fires of hell. I slowly edged backwards, gobsmacked, trying not to startle them when a distant car erupted into noise scaring both the foxes and I. A scatter of paws was heard and like magic the alley was once again engulfed in the black abyss of night, void of colour. The unexpected guests had disappeared.