Day 212: 7 June 2026

 Short Story -- A Near Miss

It came like a thief in the night.

Sarah was sleeping soundly. Her window open to let in the cool night air. Everyone knew everyone in the village. And her husband, Thomas, snored softly beside her. Their dog, Post, slept on the floor at the foot of their bed.

Their baby, Magnus, was in a cradle nearby. Eyes wide open. Hands outstretched upwards. Not crying.

Feet, so quiet and light that the boards didn’t creak, stood a body next to that cradle. Black eyes looked down, examining the child.

‘No,’ the being said to themself. ‘No. It just won’t do.’

Post stirred. Mr Black Eyes snapped his fingers in the dog’s direction, and the dog settled back like in a dream.

‘What to do now?’ the being pondered. ‘To arrive home empty handed… that just won’t do. But… neither will this.’

The child continued reaching up, unafraid of the non-human standing over his cradle.

He’d never been cruel, Mosston. Often that made his peers think him weak. Oh, he’d been the butt of many a joke back home. But it didn’t change his nature.

He nimbly jumped towards the window. Perched on the ledge, he looked back once, studying the tableau before him: peacefully sleeping parents, dog, cooing child, homemade quilt, simple rug, handmade cradle with a little mobile made with love.

‘No,’ Mosston said to himself. ‘I will not take him.’

And he agilely jumped down to the ground.

Hours later, Sarah woke up. She smiled down at a happy, sleeping Magnus. Thomas woke up and got ready to milk the cows. Post went with him.

And no one was the wiser about their unexpected visitor or the calamity that touched their home but also chose to pass it by unscathed.