There was a tap at the window, quiet, maybe a branch had gently knocked against it in the strong, cold wind outside. She lay back on the bed, the sunlight, so strong earlier on was fading into a gloomy clouded evening. The room was cold so she pulled the thin sheet up over her head to keep what warmth she was generating from her breath in under the covers. As the darkness deepened she started to fall asleep.

Then suddenly the knock came again against the window. The noise was a sharp click, scratch. She woke with a shock. How could there be a noise ? She slowly took a look to see what it was. She was on the second floor, so how could anyone, anything be tapping ?

The hairs started to rise on the back of her neck. She felt scared and fascinated at the same time. She slipped out of bed pulling her dressing gown on and wrapping it tightly around her.

Stepping up to the window sill all she could make out in the darkness was some sort of feathery mass. Then two eyes gleamed in the dark. Sitting on the outer sill was a tiny owl. It must have flown up to the window as the sun set.

“what do you want”? She thought to herself. But the owl, seeing her movement, turned its head around and fluttered off into the darkness,.