Belladonna

Sitting on the back porch near dusk, watching even more snow fall. It should be dark, but in this city, it's never truly dark, nevermind the snow. I'm bundled up, in jackets and gloves. Drinking hot tea. Knowing I should go inside to study.

Across the street, through virgin white, skulks a black cat, more silent than the falling flakes. She just parachuted in behind enemy lines, an assassin deadlier than poison. Unseen, she leaves no pawprint upon the surface of the snow, as she approaches me.

She settles on my lap, and we watch the silent snow falling together.