It made noise in the chimney like an animal struggling to free itself. My daughter saw some soot coming down, whirling through the glass of the fireplace inset and immediately afterwards we heard a dull thud. The sound of scurrying feet indicated that another bird had fallen through our chimney. We had put a pot with a net over it in order to prevent this. Apparently, the holes of the net over the pot were too big.

Madieke opened the hatch of the fireplace. It stumbled out of the fireplace. It shook its feathers like a nearly-drowned cat. Spatters of soot flew all over the place. It had no feathers at all! Then I saw what it was: it was a small vacuum cleaner bag creature. It had the shape of a sausage dog with eight sausage paws without floppy ears, an unmistakably extremely flattened nose and a dangerous, not to be ignored, typical vacuum cleaner mouth.

I grabbed my daughter and staggered backwards until I stood with my back against the wall of the room. Because I had dreamed about it last night, I knew we were not safe as long as the small vacuum cleaner bag creature was in our living room. And indeed: the little creature immediately began to suck. Our ears barely registered the sound, but our eyes saw a lot. In a few seconds, the small vacuum cleaner bag creature had sucked up our entire big armchair. 
The small creature, getting a lot bigger in the meantime, waddled on its muddy sausage paws, advancing to its next prey. It began to suck up the coffee table slowly.

The solution offered itself in a full panic. - Perhaps that was because I had read the theme word on the site of the 120-words that morning. - Draught! Vacuum cleaner bag creatures do not like it! 
I pushed Madieke into the corridor and ordered her to open the front door as wide as it permitted, while I ran to the French window in order to open it. A strong wind was blowing outside. Harsh draughts of wind howled through our house. We were fortunate.

The creature left a quarter of our coffee table behind and waddled through the front door. We were saved. The vacuum cleaner bag creature was less fortunate. At the very moment that the animal crossed the street, the garbage truck was roaring past. The rubbish truck did not look back. And when the noise stopped, we saw the half-digested remains of our expensively-paid couch lying on the paving stones. Pieces of black cowhide leather and pulp, of what had once been mahogany chair legs, were scattered all over the place. A few small pieces of skin, strongly resembling the remains of a burst sausage-coloured balloon and a small vacuum cleaner mouth, reminded us of the visitor that came in through the chimney.

We buried him/her - because vacuum cleaner bag creatures are hermaphroditic - in a container of the container park. Somebody threw in a few plastic roses. And Madieke and I thought it very appropriate.




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