During the Night

Shuffling, scuffling noises outside the shed

like boots on gravel.

I sit up, surprised I’ve slept.

The door creaks,

I squeak,

and slinking into the shed

like silk

comes a grey cat

with luminous mini-moon eyes.

Pss-pss-pss-pss-pss, I hiss,

tapping my fingertips together,

offering an empty hand.

The cat noses the air,

then turns,

tail aloft,

arse exposed,

shunning my affection.