Till Then

Slowly I turned - step by step, inch by inch. Freeze. Don't breathe. My heart is pounding in my ears. I am afraid to blink in case he hears my lashes move through the air. I crouch down. Slowly. These things must be done delicately. I take a deep, slow breath as quietly as I can, and I take another step forward. The prey is above me. It stirs. I freeze.  I will have to travel a vast distance in less than a second. I have prepared for this my entire life. 

The clock is about to strike the witching hour. The rewards are priceless if I can do this. He is a creature of habit, and I wait for it. Any second now, he will make the fatal mistake that will bring me my victory. 

The clock strikes, he reacts, and I soar through the air defying gravity and other laws of the universe. The timing is perfect. The landing is on target. His hand moved away from scratching at the precise moment. The target was exposed, and I landed with my entire weight and unsheathed claws directly on his scrotum.

The scream and violently writhing that ensued lifted me into the stratosphere of ecstasy as I gracefully flipped and landed effortlessly on the carpet and away from any danger. I quickly slipped under the bed as he screamed my name and shouted profanities.

My victory is sweet. I tuck my head under my paw, wrap my tail around me, and sleep. Tomorrow night, I will hunt again. My prey is a creature of habit, and my skill has been honed to perfection. Some day, he may escape, but it won't be any time soon. Till then.