Out of the corner of his eye

Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw the question mark of a tail moving across the coffee table – outside, on the terrace.

“Honey, I really don’t want Puddles on the balcony,” Mark said to John. “It’s way too dangerous.”

“Oh, twaddle,” John replied. “Let the kitty have some fun. It’s only when I’m out there cleaning the bird cage. Puddles is fine out there. He won’t jump up off the ledge like Honeybun.”

“And how, pray tell, do you know that?” Mark’s temper was rising, as it always did when John played court expert. “Do you have psychic powers with the cats?”

“He never has jumped up there.”

Mark didn’t know how to proceed – just ignore the argument, like he always had in the past? But this was different. Puddles wouldn’t survive a fall off that balcony.

“Puddles is only six months old, John. And ‘never’ is a lot longer than six months,” Mark said. And he noticed Puddles jump onto the ledge. “Oh my God –“

“Lighten up, Mark, everything will be –“

Mark screamed. The question mark of a tail disappeared off the edge of the balcony.