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    Katya eased one foot into the office and rested it lightly against the carpet. Nothing happened, so she gradually shifted weight onto that foot. Still nothing. The door, usually closed, had been ajar, the room empty, and no Man With The Moustache was around to see her and forbid her entrance. She was alone longer than she had expected. She poked into every corner of the room, inspected every paper and surface. When the Man With The Moustache came home, she was curled up, asleep, on his keyboard. “Damn cat!”

    1. Katina

      I think Katya and Rocky (my pug) would make good co-conspirators! Great story, Marian!


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