“Shh, he’ll hear you!” she whispered. A quick puff on my inhaler and the tickle that threatened to betray us subsided. He swept the room with his single, monstrous eye and his gaze fixed upon the stray foot that somehow would not fit beneath the mountain of cushions.
He roared triumphantly and sprang upon our mockery of concealment. Huge talons grasped our midriffs, our screams a harmony of terror as death beckoned.
Mia began to sob; it was all too much. Dad took off the diving helmet and hugged her gently. “It’s ok honey,” he soothed, “it’s only a game.”