Friday, October 31, 2014
A dark and stormy Halloween night as I sit alone with only the animals for companions, since the hubbs was called to work. The blustery wind whistles and howls as my century old house creaks and groans in protest of approaching winter chill. I settle in for the night with a good book, a cup of hot tea and fuzzy blanket to ward off the chill that has pervaded the house. Nightfall has shrouded the landscape in an inky darkness, as the shadows give ordinary objects an eerie appearance.
My silent reverie is abruptly interrupted with a repetitive thumping sound on the exterior of the house. Nervously, I peer through the windows, trying to ascertain what is causing the noise. Do I investigate? Do I wait until the hubbs comes home? Erring on the side of caution, I pick up the house phone to call the hubbs only to hear a line of static. My fear factor ratcheted up a notch or three. No problem, I muse to myself, I will text him. Only to discover, I have no bars for service.
The banging noise on the house has not stopped, if anything it has gotten more frantic. I am no longer certain if the pounding I am hearing is outside or if it is the frenetic beating of my heart. The dogs are on full alert, with the hackles up, growling and prowling about the house. I am certainly not comforted by this show of intimidation. If anything it further reinforces the fact I am alone on a dark and stormy Halloween night.
I have to do something. Is it punk kids pulling a prank? An injured neighbor? Flesh seeking zombies??! Gathering my courage and the foot long aluminum policeman's flashlight, I follow in the foolish footsteps of all the victim's in horror movies and open the door to go outside.
As I step out, the storm door is yanked from my hand. I screech and jump back assuming a batters stance with the flashlight ready to knock someone or something out...Only nothing is there. The wind gusts had grabbed the door. I slowly turn and shine the flashlight , illuminating the dark carport. Hmmm ...nothing. The banging has stopped and I don't see anyone...or anything. I chalk it up to to an overactive imagination. Shrugging it off I turn to step back inside. Whoosh, BAM! A loud, slamming noise right behind me. I scream as the wind carries the sound, then my dogs begin howling and barking. Any second I wait for the feel of cold steel as madman hacks me death...
Yet nothing happens...Deep breath, I turn around and see....the outside storage closet door has been blown open by the wind...There is no mass murderer or flesh eating zombies (that we know of). Just a scaredy cat blogger with an overactive imagination.