She sensed his presence.
His little kitten had to know he was there standing in the corner of the barn the entire time. She saw his eyes. His glistening black eyes. But the darkness can be a real friend, and if living under the cornfield has taught him one thing, it’s how to silently bolt from one place to another without anyone or anything else standing within twenty feet having even the slightest clue. It’s all a part of his brilliance. Like his sense of smell. Like his strength. His heightened senses. The gift unknowingly bestowed upon him by an abusive father.
Now, he stands outside the house. He is not n***d like he is when he hunts for his supper. He is dressed in black long underwear and long-sleeved T-shirt. His feet are covered in black, Five-fingers minimalist shoes. He’s cut
