You see, he hangs on a small stretch of clothes line just beyond my back door. His job is to ward off, and even terrify if necessary, any unwelcome intruders who might emerge from the woods that lie on the north side of the cabin. In general, I like my privacy and not everyone who has come out of that wooded stretch has amounted to what you would call good company.
Truth be told, I can remember only one such intruder who managed to slip past The Guardian, and he accomplished this under the cover of darkness. on a stormy night. Perhaps it was the high volume of alcohol content in the stranger's blood that saved him from being overcome by sheer terror, thereby allowing him to beat upon my back door. In any event, this is the only time I can remember anyone getting past my spooky sentry unscathed.
A few days ago, a bit after sunset, I walked to the rear of my abode: and as is often the case, gazed in the direction of this noble helper. Noticing a tear in the fabric of his cape I approached for a closer examination. Sure enough, there was a large tear right behind his shoulders. When did that happen? I wondered. I touched the cape in an attempt to see if I could pin the two pieces together. At that moment a large creature emerged from underneath The Guardian's vestment. I heard the fluttering of wings and I caught only the slightest glimpse of a dark object flashing by me as it took to flight. The creature moved so quickly that I was unable to determine what it was.
The first thought that came to mind was that the frightened being must have been a bird, which had chosen to nest under The Guardian's protection. Still, all I saw was a flash of black as the creature zoomed on by me. Could it have been a bat? I pondered. Now how cool would that be; a bat lodging under the cloak of such a ghoulish individual? Bats are here, and I often see them meandering above the cemetery in search of food.
In any event, I must admit that whatever had taken refuge under The Guardian's cape will always remain a mystery as the creature has apparently not returned to seek his protection. Still, I find it almost ironic that in this case, it was not The Guardian who induced terror into the soul of an intruder; but rather, it was me.
