The Messenger

Firfir protests sleepily as I push him off my stomach and fold back the two layers of blanket I'm buried under. He shakes his head, yawns, and hops off the sofa, his eyes sparkling in the dim light as he stretches and scratches his claws on the carpeted floor before vanishing toward the door.

Right. There was a knock at the door—the reason I woke up. I squint to find my warm flannel house shoes and hurry to slip my feet inside. It's almost dark in the living room, the light over the table off although I'm sure I switched it on earlier. Another blackout. The fireplace is barely giving light; the wood is too wet for a decent fire, and it took me half an hour to get it burning in the first place.

"Ma'am?" A low voice, muffled behind the door.

"Dawit?"

I hear the door handle creak. The door opens and when I turn my head, I see Firfir‘s tail slipping past two black feet clad in dusty sandals.