It’s Friday the 13th.

You wake up before your alarm, which never happens.

The house is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet where you can hear the furnace thinking about turning on. You shuffle to the kitchen, start the coffee, and glance out the front window.

There's a black cat sitting on your porch.

It isn't your cat. You've never seen it before. It's sitting perfectly straight, tail wrapped around its paws, staring at your front door like it has an appointment.

Then it blinks at you. Slowly.

What do you do?