Snap. Crack
I hear running water
From the bathroom
It’s the shower
.
I’m gripped with fear
I live alone, you see
Someone is in the house
Someone other than me
.
The lights dim and flicker
Water rushes under the door
I enter and pull back the curtain
And I shake to the core
.
It’s a man
Eyes facing opposite directions
Wrinkled, sagging skin
Deep scars mar his complexion
.
His thin mouth opens and closes
He’s wheezing, trying to speak
I beat him to sounds as I scream at
The hairless body (except for his feet)
.
“Hello, my pretty,”
He finally croaks
And with one long finger
His chest he strokes
.
He seems a bit of a nudist
Just standing there
But I am transfixed
I can’t help but stare
.
Something in those eyes
Shows a story to be told
Before I can ask, he disappears
And my shower turns cold
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©ElizabellaJones
