The Cat Who Knew Too Much
The old tabby, Whiskers, had always been a creature of habit. Every morning, at precisely 6:30 AM, he would stretch his long, lean body, let out a lazy yawn, and then proceed to his designated spot on the windowsill. From there, he would survey his domain – the bustling street below, the verdant park across […]
The old tabby, Whiskers, had always been a creature of habit. Every morning, at precisely 6:30 AM, he would stretch his long, lean body, let out a lazy yawn, and then proceed to his designated spot on the windowsill. From there, he would survey his domain – the bustling street below, the verdant park across the road, and the ever-changing human world that unfolded before him. Today, however, something was different. A strange, unsettling energy crackled in the air, a feeling of anticipation that Whiskers, despite his years of experience, couldn’t quite place. He narrowed his eyes, his emerald green orbs reflecting the rising sun, and waited, the silence of the morning broken only by the rhythmic chirping of a lone robin perched on a nearby branch.
