What is that noise?

The incessant scratching. It is an awful noise like nails from the inside of a closed coffin. What is that noise and from whence does it come? It is not the cat for she is sleeping curled near the fire as I write. Alone in the house, I listen intent on finding the source. There is nothing but silence ringing like a bell. I start to write again. Putting words on paper in a haphazard way they tumble down the white sheaf. There it is, the scratching. It is back to haunt me as I write. I pause and listen. Silence rings loud in my ears like a siren. The…