**The Uninvited Cat**
Today, Emily moved into her very own flat. It might have been small and on the outskirts of London, but it was hers. The ground floor of the three-storey building was so close to the ground that stepping out into the garden was as easy as climbing over the windowsill. The twelve-square-metre room held a bed, a double-door wardrobe, a coffee table, and two chairs. The kitchen barely fit a table, a cupboard under the sink, a stool, andwell, that was it. Tiny, but hers.
Emily had bought the place with her inheritance from her Aunt Margaret, who had adored her niece for her kind heart and willingness to help at a moments notice. The money hadnt stretched farjust enough for this little flat. There hadnt been any other options in the city at that price.
“Its a lovely little place, bright and in a convenient spot,” the estate agent had said. “Perfect for one.”
“Perfect for one, yes,” Emily had agreed. “But I do need to figure out where to put a fridge…”
She spent the entire day scrubbing, dusting, and arranging. By evening, everything sparkled, her belongings were neatly placed, and the kettle whistled on the stove. Dishes lined the wide windowsill. Emily paced her new domain, calculating where the planned fridge might fit.
Night fell. Tea was drunk, but the fridges future spot remained a mystery.
Emily climbed into bed, pulling the duvet snugly over herself. Outside, crickets chirped, their rhythmic song lulling her to sleep.
Then**crash!**
Emily jerked upright, heart pounding. Three in the morning. Dark. Burglars? A ghost? Or just the wind?
She tiptoed to the kitchen door and peeked inside.
The dishes from the windowsill lay scattered across the floor. Her favourite mug had split cleanly in twoand between the halves sat a cat.
An ordinary tabby. Only much larger. Enormous, really. It stared calmly at her.
“Where did you come from?”
The cat glanced toward the open window.
“Well, go back!” Emily flapped her hands at it.
In one leap, the cat bypassed her and landed on the bed, curling up as if it belonged there.
Morning found them bothEmily slumped in a chair, the cat sprawled across the bed. At six oclock, the uninvited guest stretched, yawned, and sauntered off.
The day passed in more homemaking efforts. By evening, Emily remembered the cat. She stowed the dishes in the cupboard and latched the window, convinced this would keep the furry intruder out.
But at exactly three in the morning**scritch, scratch**there he was, perched on the windowsill, forehead pressed to the glass, fixing her with a stern, unblinking stare.
“Fine. Stay there,” she muttered, retreating to bed.
Morning brought a weight on her legs. Emily opened her eyesthe cat lay across her feet.
“Oh, you!” She grabbed a pillow, but the cat merely yawned and ambled toward the open windowwhich she was certain shed locked.
The next night, Emily resolved to stay awake and catch the trespasser. She turned off the lights, sat by the window, and watched the darkened garden. Trees swayed, crickets hummed, her eyelids grew heavy, her legs warm…
She woke still in the chair, the cat purring loudly on her lap.
“Fine. If I cant beat you, Ill join you. Every home needs a man, I suppose,” she sighed.
From then on, the cat stayedday and night.
When the long-awaited fridge arrived, Emily still hadnt decided where to put it. The cat solved that. He sat in the hallway corner and yowled. Measurements confirmed itthe perfect spot.
The fridge became his kingdom. He slept there, ate there, lived there.
Then, one evening, he grew restlessjumping down, circling the fridge, leaping back up, fidgeting, over and over. Finally, he settled like a sphinx and stilled.
“Had enough?” Emily asked. “Good. Sleep. So will I.”
The cat didnt move.
Midnight brought a howlpiercing, unbearable. The cat stood rigid on his perch, shrieking like a siren.
“Whats wrong? Are you hurt?”
He arched his back, howling, ignoring her pleas. Then**spark!** **hiss!**smoke coiled from behind the fridge.
The cat bolted to the door, clawing at itoutside, the fuse box. Emily flipped the switch, cutting the power, then flung open the windows.
“Well call an electrician tomorrow. But for nowsleep. Thank you, kitty. Who knows what mightve happened without you?”
By morning, the cat was gone.
And he didnt return.
Some called it coincidence. Some said Aunt Margaret had sent him. But Emily knewhed been her guardian angel. Hed walked into her flat, and her life, as if hed always belonged.
**Sometimes, the most unexpected visitors leave the deepest marks.**
