Somehow, I was alone in the old creaky house. There was a fire in the fireplace and I was curled up on the couch with my laptop. I was just knocking on blogland's door to ask for a playdate when I heard a harsh three knocks at my own door. The dog snapped to attention and went psychotic, howling and snarling and scratching at the door with his teeth barred. He knew something I didn't.
As I roused myself from my warm nest and started padding my way toward the entryway, a shiver made its way up my spine. I shushed the dog harshly and flipped on the porch light. I could feel the cold February air making its way through the gap between door and frame before I even turned the handle. The wind was whipping out there, desperate for the warmth of people's homes.
The dog had changed his tune to a low growl, straight from his soul. He was staring at the door making a sound his ancestors of thousands of years ago had taught him.
"Hush up," I hissed at him. "That's just rude."
I opened the door a crack and the wind found its destination. The light was playing tricks on my eyes though, since I had been looking at the fire and my computer screen, and I couldn't see anybody standing on the stoop. It was 6:30, so it was fully dark. I shook my head a bit and gave a strong blink to try and see clearly.
No one. Empty stoop. The dog quieted down a bit, but he began wildly sniffing the air inside the house.
I opened the door all the way - man was it freezing out there - and leaned out. Wind had apparently told all his friends there was a party at my house, and the whole crew was coming in now, looking for a place to sit down, asking what I had to drink.
"Hello? Helloooo?" Emptiness.
It dawned on me right then that it was too late. I had let him in with the wind. I hadn't seen the signs. He was here and I had let him in. Damn it. It was done. How stupid can I be?
I closed the door with big, but futile hopes that he had not liked what he'd seen and had let himself out. How naive I'd been. I hate that about myself. Yup. Definitely him.
The chill in my house was one of many signs that he was an uninvited guest, making himself comfortable. He'd sit down next to me shortly, and he won't leave until spring. He's an intruder who likes to find me during February and settle right in. Cozy up with me. He'll follow me around telling me all the things he doesn't like about me.
In the past, I've practically offered him coffee and chocolate. Not this time, guy. Keep it short.
What did I even write?
13 hours ago