the shadow on the stairs

Dozing on the couch while the baby has her bath, I dream…

…and at the turn of the stairs I look up to see a shadow slowly slide down the wall and onto the floor, like a black puddle of oil.

From this pool, a figure slowly rises — an almost cartoonlike shape of a man, pale eyes like saucers peering out at me.

It drifts slowly down the stairs, halfway emerging from the shadow on the floor . . . drifting towards me.

I run down the stairs and through the darkened living room, falling on the floor — my arms and legs suddenly heavy — immobilized.

I watch, helpless, as the shadow drifts down the stairs.

And I struggle to free myself when…


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