Yesterday morning started with an empty coffee creamer container and Mr Whiskers yelling at me from the kitchen, which, in retrospect, should have been enough warning that the day was going somewhere unpleasant. I was standing in front of the…
I was watching Pandora make breakfast when I noticed that she had left the cap off the coffee creamer. Under ordinary circumstances, this would not qualify as an event. It probably wouldn’t even qualify as an observation worth remembering. Pandora…
I’ve been noticing that Pandora keeps leaving her phone charger on the kitchen counter lately. It’s a small thing, and under normal circumstances I probably wouldn’t even notice it, but Pandora usually puts things away when she’s finished with them.…
I’m lying on the bed watching Pandora do her hair in front of the dresser when I notice Mr Whiskers sitting beside her, staring at the floor. Normally this wouldn’t concern me. Cats stare at things. I’ve accepted that. They…
I’ve been trying very hard today not to investigate anything, partly because Pandora asked me not to and mostly because yesterday demonstrated that my instincts, while occasionally impressive, have a tendency to arrive at the correct general conclusion by traveling…
I’m staring at Mr Whiskers while he sleeps in a patch of sunlight on the windowsill, and I’m trying very hard not to assign significance to it. This is harder than it sounds. Yesterday I learned an important lesson about…
I’m making breakfast when I notice Karen standing unusually still beside the kitchen counter, staring at the floor. She stopped by a few minutes ago to return something Pandora lent her, and until now the visit has been completely ordinary.…
I’m sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal when I realize Mr. Whiskers hasn’t climbed into my lap. This may not sound significant to somebody unfamiliar with our morning routine, but Mr. Whiskers operates according to a remarkably dependable schedule.…
I’m sitting on the couch watching Mr. Whiskers methodically lick one paw while Pandora makes dinner in the kitchen, and for perhaps three consecutive minutes everything in my life seems completely normal. Something smells incredible from the kitchen, Mr. Whiskers…
I walk into the kitchen and immediately know something has happened. The sugar jar has moved. Normally it sits beside the toaster, slightly behind the coffee container and far enough from the edge that Mr. Whiskers can’t reach it without…
I’m walking back to the flat with Pandora’s hand in mine when I notice something off about John Mercer’s car. It’s parked outside our place where I’ve seen it a hundred times before, except today something about it catches my…
I’m sitting in the living room watching John Mercer attempt to replace a guitar string, and based on the noises he’s making, I’m beginning to suspect the guitar has insulted his family. He’s hunched over the coffee table with the…
I’m staring at the coffee mug on the kitchen counter, and something’s wrong with it. Not damaged wrong. Not dirty wrong. Just wrong. I used it yesterday morning, washed it, and put it away exactly where it belongs. At least…
I’m staring at the kitchen counter, trying to focus on the fact that John Mercer left his mug there again. This should not be important. People leave mugs on counters every day without triggering investigations. I understand that intellectually. Still,…
I’m sitting on the couch watching John Mercer fiddle with his phone, and I’m beginning to understand why some people throw electronics into lakes. He’s been trying to order a new charger for what feels like several hours, although realistically…
I’m sitting in the living room watching Mr Whiskers groom one paw with the kind of concentration I usually reserve for problems that don’t exist yet. Pandora is curled up on the other end of the couch scrolling through her…
I’m sitting on the couch, staring at Pandora while she’s completely engrossed in her phone. Mr Whiskers is sprawled across my lap, purring softly as he wedges his head into the crook of my arm like he pays rent here,…
I’m making coffee, and it should be a completely normal morning. Pandora is still asleep, Mr. Whiskers is sitting outside the bedroom complaining like he hasn’t eaten since the Eisenhower administration, and John Mercer is nowhere to be seen. None…
I noticed Karen’s car before I even made it through the front doors at work. That probably doesn’t sound important, and under normal circumstances it wouldn’t be, except Karen’s car wasn’t parked where she normally parks it. It was sitting…
I was sitting on the couch staring at Mr Whiskers, who had been asleep on my lap long enough for both of my legs to lose circulation. His orange fur looked particularly disheveled today, which probably meant he’d been rolling…
