His mind drifted for a few moments but was suddenly called back. “MUGPIES,” a voice quite clearly had said. He looked around a bit startled. There was nobody around him. Only Mattie lay near him by the gate. He looked at her. She looked at him. She continued chewing on some hay from where she lay beside the fence.
“I’ve had enough for one day,” he thought, “and tomorrow morning’s chores are now only hours away.” He took his wine, shut off one remaining light and headed towards the house. He climbed into bed with Ryan who stirred briefly and then fell back into slumber. The cat jumped out of the darkness onto the bottom of the bed and made her way along Edward’s body on the top of the covers. He felt her settle on his chest. His body was tired but his mind raced…. frittatas, Cornish Roasters, Baby goats, placentas, then images began to morph. …flying goats, Westbury chickens, mugpies.. mugpies with udders, and soon the pleasant purr of the old gray cat transported Edward into the sweet chaos of dreams and into the comfort of oblivion. The cat curled her tail around her and took her place of sleepy repose in the still of the darkness.
© 2006 Paul Trubey