They're Back

 

Something moved quickly into the shadows, but I couldn’t tell what it was and it gave me a Stephen King feeling.  It was 2:30 in the afternoon, the sun was bright and the temperature was very pleasant, but that feeling persisted.  Something wasn’t right.

I told myself it was my over-active imagination and to just get on with setting up the backyard cameras, so that’s what I did.  Yesterday all three cameras captured the crows getting the few peanuts that were out.  Today there would be a small pile of mixed nuts directly in front of camera #3.  That was the best of the three cameras. The outside water dish was already full.

Later in the day, when I was helping to put the clean laundry away, something caught my attention slipping quickly from the hall into the spare bedroom.  There are no exits to the outside from the spare room, so if it was truly something, it would still be there if I walked in and had a look.  Call me chicken.  I didn’t do it.  I just continued carrying the laundry basket to the back bedroom.

That night, lying there, waiting to fall asleep, we both heard a crash coming from the other side of the house.

“What do you think that was?” she asked.

“Let’s just say it’s George and Marion Kirby.
Good night.”