Twin Sentries

A pair of folded dark sunglasses was resting on the weathered patio table. Midday light bounced off the curved black lenses in two bright gleams. I didn't hesitate. Scrambling up the slatted wooden chair, I bounded straight onto the tabletop. I marched right up to the shiny frames. Looking down, two miniature copies of myself stared steadfastly back. Ears alert. Cape straight. I paused. Then I reached out and tapped the tortoiseshell rim with one paw. The frames tilted with a dry clack against the timber, throwing twin oval shadows across the grain. Perimeter inspection complete. Both sentries checked out.