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Lightning flashed, its crazy light blinding for one moment the black cat who crept, soft footed over the white tiles, toward the man. Body twisted, blood running from the silver knife to pool beneath, the man was unaware Soft nose nudged the white arm where no pulse pumped blood through veins no longer blue with life. Another flash, a change and where before there was a cat, a dark man knelt weeping. “Why? Why did you do this. One day. Could you not have waiting one day? I was coming. I am here.”
Soft footfalls and a second car was there, its warmth pressed against his leg. He let his hand fall on grey striped head and it slid as the hair grew long and straight. An arm slipped round his waist and a head rested on his shoulder. Naked skin as pale as the corpse was soft against his cheek as he turned his head.
“He should have waited. It should have been me.”
“Quiet, my mate. It is done and your knife still unsullied. It is over. Take me home.”
The dark man stole one last look at the father who caused so much pain, so much torment. “It should have been me. My hand should have held the knife.”
Two cats on silent feet streaked from the house toward the forest line as lightening flashed.
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