Prompt: The Watching Cats

I glance at the scribbled page of directions as I follow the long, curving, single lane, gravel road. She said it was out in the middle of nowhere. Finally, the right side opens up to a grassy field, just like she said, and the road hugs the treeline to the left.

There, I see the house past the next stand of trees. Wow, it’s beautiful. Reminds me of Anne of Green Gables. Classic Victorian architecture with lots of windows lots of “gingerbread” fascia, and a roof that makes me dream of climbing up on hit summer nights.

I park at the end of the drive and walk around to the front of the house. As I turn the corner, I stop cold. There are cats. Lots of cats. All sitting facing me. Some are sitting up with an imperial air, Some are lying with their tail tucked around their front paws. Gray, black, tortie, orange, I can’t even wrap my head around how many there are. Sitting on the cobbled pavement stones along the walkway, sitting on top of the hip-high mossy mending wall, sitting on window ledges, and on the steps up to the front door. Their heads turn ever so slightly to keep me in view. None make a sound. None approach. I feel unnerved by their silent examination. Do I pass?

I climb the steps, carefully avoiding the cats, and ring the doorbell. I run my fingers through my shoulder-length auburn hair and tug at my brown suede jacket. It’s hard to resist the urge to look back at the cats. Are they still watching me? The prickly at the back of my neck tells me they are.

Footsteps inside. High heels click click click. The door opens and she swings her left arm wide in a welcoming gesture. Her long dark hair swings around her face, hiding the long scar down her cheek and her bright red lips. “Come in” she says, in the silky voice I remember from the phone. She turns around and walks inside.

As I start to follow, I hesitate. Her eyes. They were golden, shining bright. But…they couldn’t be…cat’s eyes?

Dogs in house	Houdini
Time writing:	20 minutes
September word count:	5,709