It was Saturday morning and I was stumbling around the house, vainly looking for the coffee maker, when the front door burst open and four tons of sand poured onto my carpet. It coalesced into two vaguely humanoid figures that lay basking on the floor next to my coffee table.
“Ah, it’s good to get away from the beach and into some nice incandescent lighting,” one said.
“Yeah, although I always come away with carpet fibers simply everywhere,” the other one said. A seagull had flown in as well and had just made a nasty mess on my couch. One of the figures covered it discreetly with a pillow.
I finally recovered my senses enough to shut the door. I wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a dream and was also wondering if a wet-dry vac would constitute murder.
“We should built a book castle,” one said. “Remember that book castle we built last summer?”
The other chortled in a gritty sort of way. “We had it up to 145 volumes until the owners rushed it and swept them all away.”
“Take the good with the bad. If you don’t have owners, you don’t get the electric lights.”
I turned off the light.
“There! Look at that, that’s the switch now. It’s like Man’s cloud.”
“Be patient, it always comes back eventually.”
Just then my cat Vader drifted by behind the footstool, only his tail sticking up.
“Cat!” the sand piles screamed and bolted towards the door. Ironically, the seagull was not at all worried and a moment and a lightning-fast pounce later, I had even more mess to clean up.
I locked the door and went back to bed.
The next day, I bought a Beware of Cat sign for my house. My neighbors didn’t understand it, but at least I didn’t have to replace my carpets anymore.