a black cat jumped onto the sofa, where Janet had made herself and her family and friendship comfortable for the evening. She regarded the cat with deep suspicion. It wasn't her cat. The cat glared at her with an accusation in its' cold green eyes. Then, lifting an elegant yet deadly paw, it started to lick itself as if it had every right to be there Janet did not. She hadn't remembered leaving a window open; the doors had been locked since the early hours. Janet wasn't expecting visitors. She loved her alone time not needing gossip or evenings with friends. Reaching over to her wine glass, she took a satisfying glue. Ah well, she thought, if it's happy to stay, I'm happy too. If given a choice between humans and animals, the latter had always been her preference. She slowly extended her hand to try to smooth the cat, but it moved just out of her reach, glaring at her with those large cold eyes.
Scrolling through the TV controls, Janet searched through the menu, hoping to find entertainment that suited her mood. She was looking for something not too heavy, but also not too facile. It was a tall ask, of course. Most things were either cheesy or so obvious she didn't want to waste her time watching them; she wasn't very patient and was super critical. She'd usually give it ten minutes before switching to something else or sticking with it.
She loved anything filmed in Providence or a location of houses; lots of atmospheric lamplights shining moodily out of interesting windows. The Hamptons usually fitted the bill. Exclusiveity; something unobtainable; that sort of fantasy would be welcome. Or something enchanting, with swirling winds whipping up fallen autumn leaves around the feet of lovely young witches. Now that was escapism!
A car alarm blared in the distance as the cat let out a low, curling growl, looking at her n expectant disdain.
'What?' she said, 'You're not my cat; I don't know what that means. Are you hungry? Do you need to go out? Be my guest. I don't have any cat for janet threw back her fluffy blankets, the ad got reluctantly to her feet. She made for the front door, muttering at the cat as she went. Then, turning the large brass handle, she threw open the door dramatically, turning to usher the cat out. But the cat had gone.