The bedroom was only illuminated by street lights, shining through tiny cracks of the aluminum blinds. She always kept them drawn tight, aware of the trenchancy of the neighbor’s curiosity. It was early in the morning, and being woken by the neighbor’s dog, she felt her enthusiasm sag. She was about to turn the lamp on to read, when she noticed a figure in the corner of the room. Whoever it was heaped on the floor seemed asleep, but she felt a nervous chill permeate her being.
She reached for the lamp but decided to keep it off, not wanting to see the figure more clearly. She wondered if she could possibly slip out of the room and out the door without waking the intruder. She fumbled for her cell phone, finding only an abandoned hair clip from the night before.
Managing to crawl out of bed and sneak out her door, she entered into the eerie celadon light of the parking lot. It was full of parked cars but vacant of people who might come to her aid. She dialed 911 on her cell. The rescuers came immediately and searched her apartment. Finding nothing, they returned to her inquiring as to her well being. They thought she was just a lonely woman with too much of an imagination.
She looked at them with honest inquisition and asked had they not seen the figure in the corner? She accompanied them to the apartment bedroom, seeing nothing but a heap of clothes in the corner. She tried to salvage her dignity while they abashedly exchanged glances.
She felt they were secretly laughing at her when she tried to explain those were not her clothes in the corner.