A flea market tribal mask has hung over the door of our bunkie for years. Lately, the mask often appears to be weeping — ‘tears’ dribbling down its cheek from the eye holes. Uh-oh, I thought, soon we’ll have throngs of miracle-loving pilgrims lined up on our driveway. Tulip, like all Norwegian forest cats, has supernatural senses, so I brought her over for a look-see.
She immediately tensed and stared at the mask, as intently as when she alerted us to a deer mouse building a nest in our BBQ last week. I got as close to the mask as I could and, sure enough, a faint squeaking and rustling emanated from it. But what?!
(To be continued.)