Hello, gentle listener, and welcome to nocturnal transmissions, short stories and mutterings from the wrong side of midnight.

This episode, we bring you another tale from our friend,

the lovely Mr. Ian Sputnik.

Well, perhaps one should reserve judgment

as to whether Mr. Sputnik is lovely or not

until after this next story.

Nocturnal Transmissions is proud to present Ian Sputnik's eyes.

My wife Dorian acquired a cat, or should I say, a cat acquired my wife.

With its incessant soft mewing each time she passed it, sitting on the wall of an abandoned house,

just a short walk from our humble abode, it pulled on her heartstrings till her resolve inevitably

crumbled.

She scooped it up and brought it home.

A little black bundle of joy, which is all the stray seemed comprised of.

From that very first day when Dorian introduced the beast to our home,

the atmosphere of our little nest changed, and not for the better.

It's not that the little stray did anything particularly wrong.

On the contrary, a more pleasant, friendlier creature one could not wish for,

and my wife doted on the tiny thing, a love that seemed entirely reciprocated by Lily,

for that is what Dorian had named her.

No, it wasn't her deeds.

It was her eyes.

From the very first instance of us being introduced to each other, I knew, in my heart and soul,

...