This being a blog, I am sworn to tell you that I slept much better last night. I am still parked in my parking spot. I ate more raisin bread.
I slept so much better because I don’t have a ybab anymore. Last night around bedtime she sprouted leathery wings, scrawwwwwked a horrible scrawwwwwk, and flapped up to a nearby bell tower. While perched in the belfry, she snatched an unlucky river hawk and ripped it to shreds with her fangs until she was caked with blood and feathers. I called the chupacabra who lives in the “medieval prison” section of the park, and he managed to get leg irons on her and drag her away, still spitting and hissing. I am not sure what happened after that, but I don’t much care either.
Ah, how strange, I just heard a knocking outside, rapping on my chamber door and all, and she’s back. She points at everything and calls it a cat most authoritatively. Her tail has fallen off, leaving an unusually long butt crack. I wonder what this can all mean?