7.Wet Dreams

I dreamed I was creeping around outside the Mansion, Tom. I swear, it was just a dream. I don’t think I used my inner time traveler to flit across the ocean and stand in your garden…….but I saw you through the window, styling your hair, and I ran from your Inner Zombie. It chased me to a lake where I saw some cats. I was so scared of those freaking cats………I dove into the lake, and when I woke up, the bed was wet. So, it couldn’t possibly be me, because I wet my bed that night.

Shadowcat watched the next visitor approach the front door to the Mansion. Dripping wet. The visitor that is, not the cat. There’s been no rain around here today, a side-effect, probably, to the unexpected Full Moon, so no reason why anyone should be slightly damp, let alone dripping wet.

Splodge the Cat joined Shadow on the step, causing the visitor to stop in her tracks.

The visitor took to her heels and ran around the side of the Mansion, looking for another way in. Through the brightness of the Moon, her path was well lit, but she still didn’t see the figure she ran into, although, in all fairness, the figure was very well camouflaged in a large dark cloak.

Another figure appeared from behind.

“Andra Watkins, The Accidental Cootchie Mama.” Miss Duncan, it would appear, seemed to know everyone. “Let’s get you dry…” she said, as she dragged the latest guest through yet an open patio window at the side of the Mansion – and into the Sitting Room.

“Tell me,” The Cloaked Figure shortly joined them in the Sitting Room, “Are you Andrea?”

“NO!” Came the stern reply from the rapidly-drying guest.

“Sandra?”

“No! No! No!!!”

“Andrew?”

No answer gave the answer to that question. The glare did the same.

The Cloaked Figure laughed with an evil-sounding lilt, although it didn’t sound right at all.

“Ahem. Moving on.” The Cloaked Figure cleared his/her throat. “I’ve seen your dream, Cootchie Mama. Felt it. Lived it. Very good. Very good.”

A few minutes silence made the Sitting Room feel slightly uncomfortable.

“Are you sure it was a dream?”

The Cloaked Figure left the Sitting Room, needing a drink. Miss Duncan approached The Accidental Cootchie Mama. “It’s not raining now. Here, let me help you out and on your way. Follow me… it’s quicker this way.”

The visitor and the maid made their exit from the Sitting Room via a ladder up to a loft in the corner.

Can a dream be an alibi?  I don’t see why not…