Whew, it's been a long time. I've been trying to get back into writing this month and have been primarily focused on The Missing Years (we've got about a third of the final act written now). Back in October I saw a meme on Instagram and well, this finally came out of it.

A Bump in the Night

"Owen," Claire whispered, her hand snaking across the bed to grab at his shoulder.

"Hmmph." There was a soft grumble, before Owen shifted, squirming away from her.

"Owen!" she called out again, this time with more urgency.

"What?" he finally responded, turning over to face her. In the darkness of the bedroom she could just make out his facial features, watching as he blearily looked at her.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

"You calling me?" Owen replied, confused.

"No, that," Claire said, her words coming out in a slightly panicked hiss as she once again heard the sound that had woken her. In the quiet of the night, the slight squeak that their bedroom door handle made when turned could be heard clearly. She poked him as she pointed towards the door. "I think someone's trying to get into our room."

"Maisie?" Owen offered.

"Usually she knocks," Claire responded in an urgent whisper. "And she's usually a lot louder."

For a moment, they both lay there, the silence of the night enveloping them until it was again broken by the squeak of the door handle. Claire tensed, her hand grabbing onto Owen's arm. Her grip tightened when this time, instead of just the slight squeak followed by silence, it was followed by a creak as the door latch disengaged and the door opened.

Claire could feel her attention tunneling as she focused on the door waiting — expecting — to see Maisie or someone come through. But no one appeared.

"Maisie?" Owen called out cautiously as he sat up in bed. There was no response. Claire continued to grip his arm as he reached out to flip on his bedside lamp.

At the same moment he turned it on, there was a soft thump and then something landed in the middle of the bed, and Claire couldn't help but shriek, as she squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around herself defensively, curling instinctively in on herself.

"Murphy?" Owen's shocked gasp had Claire quickly opening her eyes to find that, yes, Murphy was now standing in the middle of their bed, staring at them. "What are you–?"

"Murphy?" Claire interrupted Owen, her jaw dropping open. "How the hell did you get in here? Wait, you can open doors now?"

Murphy responded with a short woof as Owen sheepishly said, "Oh, right," before he started chuckling.

"What? What's so funny?" Claire demanded.

"Not funny, not really," he replied. "One of the training goals this week has been learning to open doors."

Murphy let out another woof, his tail wagging excitedly before he leapt towards them, only for Owen to let out a strangled gasp as one of Murphy's paw made an unfortunate landing. Owen's arms wrapped around the dog, pushing him backwards.

"Whoa, Murph, careful there," Owen wheezed, and it was Claire's turn to chuckle, which just drew Murphy's attention towards her. The dog quickly turned away from Owen, his tongue coming out to give Claire a quick lick before she managed to push him away.

"You're not allowed in here, Murph," Claire chastised the dog even as she scratched him behind the ears. "And what are you doing coming in at–" she glanced over at the alarm clock on her bedside table "–4:22 am?"

Murphy let out a sharp yip, moving back and jumping off the bed and heading towards the door. When he reached it, he paused, looking back at them, as if expecting them to follow. When neither of them moved, Murphy let out another bark.

"You go," Claire said, shoving at Owen. "He's your responsibility."

Owen grumbled something unintelligible in response, but Claire couldn't make out what it was. It didn't matter though, as Owen slid out of the bed, and made his way towards the door, following after Murphy.

Claire listened as they made their way down the stairs before letting out a yawn. She scooted across the bed, turning out Owen's light, before snuggling back down under the covers.

She was just drifting off when she felt the bed dip as Owen climbed back in, sliding across the mattress and wrapping himself around her.

"Ugh, you're cold," Claire complained when one of his hands slipped under her shirt.

"Had to go outside," Owen mumbled, burying his face into the hair at the back of her neck. Claire couldn't help but squirm, trying to get away from his cold nose.

"Why?"

"Murphy needed the bathroom," Owen replied. "He couldn't get out."

"Guess you taught him how to open the wrong doors," Claire said, turning around in the circle of his arms until she was facing him as a grin slid across her face.

"Ha ha," Owen said, and while Claire couldn't see it, she knew he was rolling his eyes. "Just be glad he woke us up."

"Why?" Claire said, before the realization hit her. "Ugh. If he does that — ever — that's your responsibility. I'm not cleaning that up."


Okay, I can't link to the meme here but if you look up "doggosandmoredoggos" and find their post from Oct 19th you can see it.

I hope to write more snapshots and another larger story (it's all planned out). I'll see what happens.

In the meantime, everyone please stay safe. This second wave looks much much worse than the first. Masks. Social distance. Wash hands. Take care.