Short Story: The Escape

He jumped, straight forward and out of the window. Behind him, he left the jacket by which his captor had thought they had secured him. He made it look simple, but at the back of his mind was the quiet satisfaction that most would have got even more caught up and entangled in their attempts to escape.

Behind him he heard a screech of outrage. Footsteps clattered on the bare floorboards. The sounds receded rapidly into the distance. He was safe for the moment. Well, he was safe for precisely the next couple of seconds.

Jumping out of the window had dealt with the immediate problem. The details of a safe landing were something he would have to work out on the way down. Fortunately the same practiced dexterity with which he had slipped, eel-like, from his owner’s coat, was a product of his gymnastic prowess.

Turning what had therefore begun as a plummet into a flip and somersault was merely a matter of muscle memory, determination and of course luck. That was something he had in abundance at least.

A tuck, a twist, and a flick of the tail and his paws hit the ground. A brief pause to miaow defiance back at those who had dared to talk of clipping his claws and then he sped like flowing silk into the night

About Tim Maidment

Writer, House Husband, Raconteur and Bon Vivant
This entry was posted in Fiction, short story, writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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