The Mystery in the Front Yard

It was a bright Saturday morning in suburban Melbourne. The magpies warbled from the big gum tree, and the distant sound of a lawnmower buzzed along the footpath. It's just another quiet Saturday morning. Sarah poured herself a cup of tea while Tom stood by the window, peering through the blinds into their front yard.

"You see that, love?" Tom said, voice low. "There's… something out there. In the grass."

Sarah set her mug down with a clink. "What do you mean, something?" she asked, wandering over. Sure enough, sprawled behind the jacaranda was a small, unmoving shape. The kind of thing you'd never expect to see at 9 AM on a weekend. She had a hard week; she did not need any surprises.

"Oh, you think it's... dead?" Tom whispered, eyes wide.

Sarah squinted, heart thumping. "Well, it's not moving. It could be a possum, maybe a bird. Or—oh lord, what if it's a body?"

Tom frowned. "A body? Out here? In broad daylight? Surely not. It's probably just a bit of rubbish."

But Sarah shook her head. "It's not rubbish. Look at how it's lying there. So still… Should we call the cops?"

Tom hesitated, finger tapping on the windowpane. "I don't want to look like a galah if it's nothing. Let's check it out first."

They pulled on their thongs and crept out the front door, tiptoeing across the dew-soaked grass. The shape in the front yard became clearer for a fur, a tail, and a limp little paw.

"Oh no…" Sarah breathed, dread rising. "It's small… It's…"

Just as Tom knelt down, the shape stirred. A pair of sleepy green eyes blinked open. With a lazy yawn, their daughter Mia's beloved tabby, Nibbles, stretched out from her sunbaking spot and let out a soft meow. She is the most loving cat she has ever met. Mia had her first sleepover this weekend. She promised her that Nibble would not miss her too much.

Sarah burst out laughing, relief washing over her. "It's just Nibbles! She's only napping in the sun!"

Tom joined in, shaking his head. "Well, that's one way to start the morning. Good on you, Nibbles, you little drama queen."

The couple went back inside, the world suddenly brighter, leaving Nibbles to her well-deserved nap in the spring sunshine.

They both let out a massive sigh of relief that they didn't have to tell Mia that Nibbles had died. Tom went on his golf trip with his mates. Sarah enjoyed her rare quiet morning. She wanted the time to sit and finish her book uninterrupted. She enjoyed spending her morning with Nibbles, letting her scratch her ears.

It was just another quiet Saturday morning in suburban Melbourne. The magpies warbled high in the gum tree, and the soft hum of a distant lawnmower drifted along the footpath. Inside, Sarah poured herself a cuppa, hoping for a peaceful morning after a long, draining week—she really didn't have any surprises. Tom lingered at the window, his brows furrowed as he peered through the blinds into their front yard.

"You see that, love?" Tom asked, his voice low and uncertain. "There's… something out there. In the grass."

Sarah set her mug down with a clink, her nerves already on edge. "What do you mean, something?" she replied, moving closer. Behind the jacaranda, she spotted a small, unmoving shape. Her heart thudded in her chest. The kind of thing you'd never expect to see at 9 AM on a weekend.

"Do you think it's... dead?" Tom whispered, his eyes wide with worry, fingers tapping anxiously on the windowpane.

Sarah squinted, tension knotting her stomach. "Well, it's not moving. It could be a possum, maybe a bird. Or—oh lord, what if it's a body?" Her imagination raced ahead, dread mingling with exhaustion.

Tom frowned, trying to sound rational but betraying his own nerves. "A body? Out here? In broad daylight? Surely not. It's probably just a bit of rubbish."

But Sarah shook her head, unable to shake the unease. "It's not rubbish. Look at how it's lying there. So still… Should we call the cops?"

Tom hesitated, not wanting to look like a galah if it turned out to be nothing. "Let's check it out first," he said, reluctant but practical.

They pulled on their thongs and crept out the front door, tiptoeing across the dew-soaked grass. As they drew closer, the shape came into focus—fur, a tail, and a limp little paw. Sarah's breath caught. "Oh no…" she murmured, dread rising inside her. "It's small… It's…"

Just as Tom knelt down, the shape stirred. A pair of sleepy green eyes blinked open. With a lazy yawn, their daughter Mia's beloved tabby, Nibbles, stretched out from her sunbaking spot and let out a soft meow. She was the most loving cat Sarah had ever met, gentle and patient with Mia, who was away at her first sleepover this weekend. Mia adored Nibbles and had made Sarah promise the cat wouldn't miss her too much while she was gone.

Sarah burst out laughing, her relief flooding out in a wave. "It's just Nibbles! She's only napping in the sun!" The anxiety that had knotted her stomach vanished, replaced by warmth.

Tom joined in, laughing shakily and shaking his head. "Well, that's one way to start the morning. Good on you, Nibbles, you little drama queen." His nervousness melted into affection as he reached down to give Nibbles a gentle scratch behind the ears.

They both let out a massive sigh of relief, grateful they didn't have to tell Mia that Nibbles had died. Tom headed off on his golf trip with his mates, a spring in his step he hadn't felt earlier.

Sarah, savouring the rare quiet, enjoyed the chance to actually sit there and finish her book without interruptions. Nibbles curled up beside her, purring contentedly, and Sarah felt a deep sense of comfort—thankful for the gentle presence of her daughter's beloved cat and the peaceful arvo they all shared.