The boy sat up in his bed, listening. First a feathery sound. Like a dry paintbrush whispering across paper. Then footsteps softer than his own heartbeat. Finally a thump more felt than heard, as somthing landed on the bed. The boy grooped for a lamp. He touched the switch. He looked at the cat sitting by his feet. He sighed "Its you I thought you were somthing scary" "Silly" said the cat "Cats aren't scary" "I'm dreaming" the boy whispered. "Cats can't talk!" "I wouldn't worry about that" ansered the cat. Her wiskers were wet with something stick and dark. I'd worry about the rats," she added. "Now thats scary." Inside the wall, the boy could hear tiny claus scrabbling at plaster. When the claws broke though, he could swear the cat smiled.
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