Saturday morning. Mew slept in, as usual, getting up at precisely half past nine. Breakfast was a cup of yogurt and a piece of toast. After eating, she went outside to read exactly twenty more pages of her book on the back porch swing.
Except the swing wasn't there. Mew stood in shock, gaping at the empty space on her porch. There was no trace of it ever being there. What? She thought of a man dressed in black trying to run down the street, lugging the swing behind him. She went back inside thinking, 'I must be imagining things…'