Night Passage Home

The garden grass turned damp and chilly. I knew it was time to sleep inside. I crawled back across the cold flagstones toward the kitchen door. The swinging cat flap hung closed in the dark frame. I stopped. The plastic looked pale against the house light leaking through. I planted my rear fins against the stone step and pressed my snout into the flap. It held tight at first. I lowered my weight and gave one steady, deliberate push. The magnet clicked free with a loud snap. The flap swung high, letting me tumble onto the warm kitchen linoleum. Safe inside, I tucked my claws beside the skirting board.