So. It’s a hideously hot night, last night in Melbourne town, and Violet Towne and I are trying to get some sleep. Just as we finally doze off, there is an almighty explosion and flash of brilliant light right in front of our house. All the power goes out and the street is plunged into darkness. We both sit bolt upright. The night is dead silent, ringing with the echo of the sound. In a few minutes, the electronic devices in the house beep back into life and the streetlights flicker back on.
Adrenalin having propelled us from bed, we make a cursory investigation, but it’s too dark, and we go back to attempt to sleep.
This morning the grim scenario was all too clear.
At least the poor little blighter went quickly. I reckon that his soul was in cat possum heaven before his body hit the ground.
