Member-only story
Second Sight
A Lovecraftian tale of familiar animals and their unfamiliar sight.
It always seemed a little bit otherworldly how my cat used to sit and stare at the corner of the room, shifting its head slightly from side to side as it did so, but always keeping its eyes focussed firmly on a specific point.
I did a bit of research, after all who doesn’t these days, and it’s apparently a common thing with pets — cats, dogs, even mice and guinea pigs too — who would all, from time to time, take issue with something and direct their full attention to its intimate surveillance.
Some said it was sound that attracted their attention, perhaps the wind whistling through a tiny crack somewhere, maybe insects tapping quietly in the woodwork, or even the distance echo of something outside that just managed to creep into the range of their sensitive hearing.
Others reckoned on the supernatural, of course, that they somehow could sense things that we humans could not. Opinion was divided between the usual departed spirits, ghosts from the afterlife perhaps, various demonic entities, extraterrestrial aliens, or even something else entirely.
That’s a moot point, of course, knowing what I do now.
It’s just a dreadful shame that I suspect I won’t be around long enough to tell…
