Thief in the Library

Thief in the Library
(300 words)

Hiding behind the leather wing-back chair, Jessie realized she was trapped in the library, and stifled a squeak-like whimper.  Silhouetted before the fireplace, the killer paced back and forth, quiet as a cat. She knew it was too dangerous, but she thought she could get in and out, no one the wiser. She’d been wrong. And worse, sickness overwhelmed her. The room spun, normal shapes elongated into towering monsters, and a thousand dogs bayed in her head.

Squeezing her eyes shut, nausea gripped her stomach, so she blinked to find the killer no longer visible.

He could be anywhere! She peered around, shivering. A shadow startled her into action.  She dashed past the end table, and huddled at the corner of the sofa, ignoring the messages of queasiness from her upset stomach.

Nothing moved. She stayed deathly still.

She decided the long velvet drapes behind the sofa offered more protection, but did she dare expose herself?

A log popped in the fireplace and she was off.  She slipped behind the drapes, and worked her way along their velvety shelter. The door was close now, but the vertigo was worse. Her brain churned, her innards squirmed, her throat burned. As bile rose, she wondered if it wouldn’t be simpler to let the brute kill her.

Voices echoed in the hall, then the door opened. She seized her chance and bolted for freedom.

“Eeeeek! Reginald did you see that?”

“What?”

“I think it was a mouse!”

“Nonsense. The cat would have caught it.”

“That’s true.”

“But look at that. Your lazy cat is sleeping on the hearth surrounded by Aunt Martha’s rum-nut balls. Well, I guess that solves the puzzle of the pastry thief! Now we know why they kept disappearing. Your cat’s been at them.”

“I hope not. He’d get sick.”