Standing Room Only

A World of Short Stories


The entrance hall was muggy as if the front door had been left open all night long.  The front door I knew I had locked before I went to sleep.  I knew what it was like to have a stranger come into the house in the middle of the night.  I have never quite gotten over the terror I felt at hearing someone bumping through the house.  And of course, the break-in happened on the first night I started living on my own. 

I found the pepper spray I had stashed in the bookshelf by the front door and tiptoed back toward my bedroom to find my cell phone.  Every creak in the wood floor made me jump.  Even though each step I took got me closer to my phone, it also took me farther from the front door.  From my only way to escape.  My entire body started to shake with fright and suspense.  I stopped in the middle of the hall and debated – should I run out the front door screaming or lock myself in my bedroom? 

I really wasn’t totally sure anyone was even in the house so I continued to my room.  My heart continued to pound as I hard slight squeaking noises coming from my room.  I took a deep breath to calm my nerves as I prepared to push the door open and confront the intruder.  In the end, I’m not sure who was more scared, me or the raccoon jumping onto my bed. 

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