Let the Games Begin
Reader Margaret Gallop said:
A nervy description of feelings with a menacing ending.
3am. She couldn’t remember what had woken her.
She sat up. Just a bad dream? She strained her ears. No, there was a siren in the distance. She was about to growl at the injustice of life and go back to sleep, when she heard a creak.
She froze. Her arm was still suspended holding the corner of her blanket. She had no cats; she lived alone in a three-room apartment.
Another creak.
She dropped the blanket and pulled herself into a foetal position.
Two more creaks, each one closer than before.
She wanted to scream, but stuffed her fist into her mouth. She’d done a self-defence class once, but how would she know where to punch the guy in the dark?
Light. The synapses in her brain finally started firing. She put her hand to the switch.
There was a squeak as the door handle was pushed down.
She hit the light. Nothing happened. Hit it again and again, but nothing. She swore. When had the light bulb died on her? She didn’t know.
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