I heard it, a sound
so slight, and I knew ... he was in the house.
I slipped to the floor,
and reached under the bed for the 12" pig sticker that lay there waiting for
this night.
I crept across the room to the open door ... the knife cold in my grip.
My silk nightie clung to my moist body; the beat of my heart filled my chest.
I edged down the moonlit hallway.
Hairs stood up on the back of my neck.
I turned the corner. Shadows deep, menacing ... a floorboard creaked.
The smell of him hit me first.
2 comments:
You're a scary wee individual aren't you ?!! Nice 'sticker'.
You can't leave us hanging like that!
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