TALKY TIN by me
Talky Tin sat in the window seat looking inscrutable.
At least that's how everyone said he looked. And then they said what mysterious creatures cats are. But, although she had tried hard to see what was inscrutable about him, Emily hadn't been able to so far. To her, he seemed very easy to read.
When he was happy, he purred and smiled. When he was hungry, he wailed and bellowed. When he was sleepy, he fell asleep. He fell asleep on the instant, wherever he was. Emily had found him slumped by his food bowl; upside down in the flower bed; snoring happily under the feeder while the birds pecked around him,
He loved people, climbing and purring over all visitors - falling asleep on them if he was sleepy - waiting at them if he was hungry.
Apparently, to be true to his inscrutable type, he should only have sat on those visitors who were allergic to cats. But everyone was an acceptable cat couch to Talky.
He detested all cats. And he was not at all inscrutable about making that known. He didn't even bother to go through the elaborate fight rituals of his kind. He fired no warning shots across the bows. Any cat coming within the invisible line Talky had drawn around house and garden met a business like set of claws and teeth instantly.
They left quickly. And they did not come back.
All in all, Emily thought that Talky was probably from another planet. And he hadn't bothered to do his Earth homework properly. Or perhaps he was just lazy about his camouflage.
Yet no-one had noticed. No-one apart from her. And apparently she didn't matter.
Which left a nagging worry in her mind. If Talky knew that she didn't matter, did that mean that he had spotted her?