Flash fic! Yay!
I feel like I’ve written something very similar to this before, but I haven’t had time to dig into my archives to find out so I’m really not sure. Hope you like it!
She looks at herself in the mirror, and finds three marks, the palest of pink, drawing a soft curve from her hairline down to her eyebrows. Yawning, she brings up a hand and rubs across them. Weird. She had them yesterday morning too, and she can’t figure out what could have caused them. Folds of fabric, maybe, but how can her pillowcase, her blanket or even her pajama sleeves have rumpled so neatly in her sleep that they’d cause three lines, perfectly uniform and parallel, like claw marks long-healed.
It’s strange, but it’s the sort of strangeness that fades from your mind with the cobwebs of sleep, and is blotted out entirely by things like traffic, and lunch, and meetings. Just like it did the first time.
It isn’t until the fifth day that she remembers the dream. Remembers the cat—small and powerful, like a bobcat but all silvery grey, it had batted at her face and she had woken up. Weird. She’d never seen a cat like that before and yet… she’d seen a cat like that before.
On the sixth night, finally, the cat spoke to her.