In the Dark - March 12 2025

 

In the Dark

March 12 2025

A knock at the door

then a knock that's louder still. 

The sound of the bell;

3 cheerful tones

so cheery

they can’t help but annoy,

especially for someone

as unwelcoming as me.

An anxious pause,

another knock

firmer this time,

then a final try at the bell;

a hard jab,

but the chime responds

as it’s always done,

the same bright welcoming tune

no matter how black my mood.

The screen door squeaks in

on dry hinges

a limpish spring.

The sliding window rattles

as the door firmly shuts,

and the temperamental latch

catches

with a short sharp click.

A brusque voice

mutters something bad

    ... footsteps recede

         ... a car door slams.

I'm in the dark

curtains drawn, ears cocked

until I'm sure they’ve gone.

But even then

the dread doesn’t lift

  —  no matter who it is

they’re out to get me.

So I lurk,

fearful

hyper-vigilant

on guard;

holding my breath,

and trying hard

to make myself invisible.

Because the threat is real

no matter what they said.

The world is out to get me

and even they are against me;

their caring words

a transparent ploy

I won’t fall for again.