A Night in the Lonesome October

October 1

Made the circuits. The thing in the Circle changed shapes, finally making itself look like a lady dog of attractive person and very friendly disposition. But I was not fooled into breaking the Circle. It didn't have the smell part down yet.

«Nice try,» I told it.

«You'll get yours, mutt,» it said.

I walked past the various mirrors. The Things locked in them gibbered and writhed. I showed them my teeth and they writhed away.

The Thing in the Steamer Trunk pounded on the sides and hissed and sputtered when it became aware of my sniffing about. I snarled. It hissed again. I growled. It shut up.

I made my way to the attic then and checked out the Thing in the Wardrobe. It was scratching on the sides when I entered but grew still as I approached.

«How's everything inside?» I asked.

«Be a lot better if someone could be persuaded to turn the key with his paws.»

«Better for you maybe.»

«I could find you lots of great bones, big ones, fresh, juicy, lots of meat on them.»

«I just ate, thanks.»

«What do you want?»

«Nothing special just now.»

«Well, I want out. Figure what it's worth to you and let's talk.»

«You'll get your chance, by and by.»

«I don't like waiting.»

«Tough.»

«Up yours, hound.»

«Tsk, tsk,» I replied, and I went away when it began using more abusive language.

I went back downstairs, then passed through the library, smelling its musty volumes and incense, spices, herbs, and other interesting matters, on my way to the parlor, whence I stared out the window at the day. Watching, of course. That is my job.