Tom sat bewildered, hands impotent on the bed sheets. He was certain that if he could just deliver an ear scratch Nibbles would stay a while but oh well....what can one do..."What can one do" had become Tom's unofficial maxim in life. A rather comforting maxim too, thought Tom yawning widely. One that not only justified his general lack of go-gettedness but affirmed disinclination as the only reasonable disposition to have.
Tom liked to think himself a reasonable man because someone had to be and well....his bat of a mother certainly wasn't. So great was her influence on Tom that he was sure she must have been formidable even as a child. He pictured her new and nubile, thrashing about on the day of her baptism and the holy water, which stood no chance against such a hot head, evaporating with a hiss upon contact. As the steam cleared there would be revealed in fearfully clear focus the woman he knew today.
But Tom had two things over her. Two big things. The first? He could run and as sedentary and weak as he normally was he was always moved by danger. Secondly, the bullying of his mother and various school children had long ago developed within him a finely atuned sense for trouble. It was his 6th sense and with each year of his life it had grown exponetially, almost as if knowing how much it had to compensate for, until finally it outstripped all other senses and stood preeminent, supremely keen. This was his weapon and the reason for his deep lack of ease this morning.
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