Thunk

A practice in storytelling...

THUNK

Five batches of laundry, and thankfully she was now loading the last batch, towels, into the dryer. The phone rang, interrupting her half way through. Lousy telemarketers. After hanging up the phone, she returned to the laundry, hastily threw in the last towels, and started the dryer. Then, into the kitchen with the intention of finishing the stack of breakfast dishes. She had hardly reached the kitchen sink, when she heard the most peculiar noise coming from the laundry room, a heavy thunk, thunk, thunk, followed by the most bloodcurdling screech that had ever reached her ears. Then again; thunk, thunk, thunk, and that egregious noise again. It was the sort of sound that draws to the imagination thoughts of torture. Thunk, thunk, thunk, and the same ululation. What in the world could make such an horrific noise? She bolted into the laundry room, flung open the dryer, and, out jumped one very warm-- and very cantankerous --pet cat.