Derek Keast

The Pendant in the Notebook

My wife’s cat sat atop the armrest of the couch, lazily basking in the lone lamplight. Silence rang throughout the house, at the exception of my footsteps when I entered the front door. Elizabeth, the blonde angel who is also my wife, was on a work trip. Only the cat and myself would be sleeping in the dwelling for the next week. I wasn’t a huge fan of the cat, which was named Riana, but that wasn’t her fault, merely my distaste for felines in general. She dropped like a smooth marauder onto all fours and scurried into the kitchen as I closed the door behind me.