*

*

One day everything changed.  At first, the morning unfolded as usual.  She started the water to boil, and put fragrant coffee grounds in the French press.  Took a waffle from the freezer, popped it in the toaster. It was while she was scooping cat food into Raymundo’s dish that they both stopped at the sound.  Raymundo pointed his pointy ears toward the bathroom.  She frowned, then tiptoed to the bathroom door.  Splashing sounds.  Thumps and bumps.  A grunt.

Slowly, cautiously, she turned the knob.  Opened the door a crack.  Peeked in.  Someone was in the tub.  A large someone.  A someone with wings.

She gasped.  The someone looked up.

“So sorry,” he said.  She could tell by the voice and the shape it was a “he.”

“So sorry.  I must have taken a wrong turn up there.”  He stood up.   Then she saw all of him.  His skin was a deep violet, shimmering with tiny scales.  The wings were made of iridescent black feathers, like a raven’s.

“You see,” he continued, as he dried himself with one of her towels, “I was aiming for the mountain lake, just north of here, but my hydrodetector malfunctioned and I ended up here in your bath.”

She was speechless.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll just be off.  Might you let me out your back entrance?  You do have one?  Won’t do to walk out on your street this time of the morning.”

She opened the door and stepped aside to let him pass.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked.