Maybe

Sitting on the cliffside bench, I watch the sun slide below the horizon. Another lonely day survived; so many similar days since Sheila passed away.

Suddenly I realise I’m not alone. I hadn’t noticed anyone approach.

I nervously turn, ready to move.

Her eyes, catching the last of the evening light, are simply beguiling. It is as if she is looking through me, peering into my loneliness; tempting me.

I shuffle my arm along the back of the bench, curious as to how she will react; tempting her.

I feel a gentle touch on my hand.

She starts to purr.