I shut the door behind me and put my bag down on the table.

“Take your shoes off,” he said. “I try to keep the carpets clean.”

I slipped my flats off, coughing. The house had a funny sort of smell to it, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Do you want to have coffee?” he asked. “Or a nightcap? Or, uh, crackers? And cheese? Or, um, I have fruit.” It was cute.

We ate cantaloupe and talked about our jobs. After sex, we cuddled for a little while.

I had fallen into a light doze when he started, and turned to face me. He asked me, “Do you want to see my owls? I keep them in the basement.”

I didn’t know what that meant.

“Like, the birds,” he said. He was wearing a slim chilly smile.

I laughed, and declined. He shrugged, rolled back over and went to sleep.

In the morning I left while he slept, slipping my clothing back on and padding down the stairs. As I stepped into my shoes, I strained my ears for the flapping of wings. Try as I might, I couldn’t hear anything, so I just picked my bag up and left.