Felonius Feline

So in the Jan/Feb 2024 issue of Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine they had a writing challenge. Based off of a picture you have to write a 250 word story telling what happened. I failed at that task. My story has close to an extra 200 words. Instead of editing it down, I decided to post it here instead. 

​Lenard had never liked working the late shift at Jerry’s Groceries. There was something off-putting about the people who showed up after dark. Not quite right. There was a shiftiness to them, that he couldn’t bring himself to trust. Add to that the current state of affairs, where you couldn’t turn on a TV without hearing about some shooting, and was it any wonder that Lenard would spend his whole shift on edge. Waiting for the shoe to drop.
He knew it was only a matter of time before something bad happened to him. How could it not? He worked the store alone in the dead of night. And it wasn’t like it was a good neighborhood. The hardware store next door was just robbed a week ago. The Diner across the street a few days before that. It only stood to reason that Jerry’s was next.
Lenard tried to put these thoughts out of his head as finished up the stocking for the evening. Harold, the owner of the hardware store was still fighting for his life in the hospital after he attempted to stop the thief. What kind of nut tries to stop someone with a gun? Lenard knew he didn’t have that in him. First sign of trouble and he was bolting for the doors.
A loud crash came from an aisle over. Lenard’s heart stopped. The thief had come for him. He had been dreading this moment. The thief was getting closer, there was no time to run. Lenard ducked behind some boxes he had yet to discard and waited for the end.
The store was silent, too silent. The only sound that Lenard could hear was the pounding of his own heart. Moments ticked by, and just as he started to think maybe it was safe to get up, he heard something moving in the aisle with him. Every fiber of his being wanted to run for the door, but he was frozen in fear. The end had finally come for him.
The thief was feet away from him, he could hear his footsteps, light as could be. Lenard prayed, for the first time in a long time. Asking for protection, for forgiveness. For a chance to make it home alive. Something hit the boxes next to him. He braced himself for the end. With a heavy heart he forced himself to look up at the eyes of his killer, only to find that instead of some thief, he was looking up at a tiny black cat, with the tiniest bit of white in her face.