The owl and the pussycat

It was a dark road with few lights but she didn’t care.  Walking along, engrossed in her texting, the keys’ comforting clicks chased away wind in the trees.  She noticed another sound, somewhere behind her but phone bells chiming chased that away.

“Watch out for Banshees!”  the incoming text proclaimed.

Smiling, tapping the keys in reply, she barely registered the sound of heels’ clicking behind her.  “Let you know if I see any” she replied.

Seeing a comb lying on a level stretch of wall suddenly stopped her in her tracks.  The noise  behind her she had finally registered also stopped.  Quickly looking back the way she had come she could distinguish nothing but a darkish empty street.

Moving on she heard the sound behind again, footsteps click-clacking in time with her own.  Stopping again it seemed to her the noise also stopped.  This time she didn’t look behind.

She came towards the old dark house, empty for years.  Heart thumping in time with her quickening pace she could distinguish little ahead.  Now it seemed there was something ahead, faint lights, darker shape.  Sobs squeezed her throat, strangled with terror, sounds behind quickening.

Then there were arms around her, a voice saying, “hey I didn’t mean to frighten you, it was only a text!”

Laughing, relieved, the pair saw the irony in yet another friend dashing towards them, breathless. “Oh, God! I thought I’d never catch you, that’s one spooky stretch of road!”

In momentary silence a squeak, faint, yet loud enough to be heard in the stillness, reached them from over the wall.  A louder squeal followed, as blurry white shape fell from the sky.  They ran screaming.

The cat scuttled away, disgusted the owl had seized the mouse for it’s own prey.