Cyclone slammed the door. She grabbed a chair from the kitchen and wedged it under the knob. Only then did she look at me. Her eyes displayed a mix of fury and disbelief. She smelled of earth and mulch. Judging by the stains on her clothes she appeared to have been wrestling in the mud.
She snapped, “What the hell is with you and monsters? I wasn’t even looking for one today and there it was, out to kill me!”
I rubbed my eyes and drank another slurp of tea. I said, “I would suggest that dealing with monsters was a family tradition but, fortunately, most of the family seems to have avoided going into the monster business. It appears that only a select few of us are so lucky.”