They Talk To Me, Chapter 2 Timmy regarded me with eyes of mythic cryptic amber, sneezed, stretched and kicked the kitten absentmindedly with his back legs. My coffee went cold and my fag went out. Birds sang in my neighbours tree and early fingers of sunlight stroked the kitten causing him to past out. Maybe! I thought, I'd upset someone who'd gotten a key to my flat and had developed a deep understanding to the things that make me tick. Maybe someone at the book shop, the owner my employer but no I don't think so she could barely remember my name. There was no one else, my boss, my cats and the girl behind the counter at Tesco. I was startled from my introspection by the sound of the cat flap in the kitchen. Normally nothing to fear, other moggies regularly visited, I could hear the regular pad pad of a weighty cat approaching across the wooden floor of my kitchen, the sound paused at the door to the living room. Did I need a weapon? This cat could be satans own tiger sent to drag me to hades, I reached for the telly remote it would have to do. Armed with my vorpal television accessory I slowly swivelled my head, really wanting to be the girl from the exorcist at that moment but having to concede that my body must turn as well. I saw the apparition! The well built and handsome doe eyed ginger tom from the other evening was regarding me with unabashed amusement from the kitchen door.