you are alone in a cabin-- aren't you?

you rented this cabin up in the mountains to get some work done. you are finally going to write that novel you've been talking about for years. you took a week off from work, packed up your car, texted everyone you'd be unreachable and drove through the switchback mountain roads to this little wooden cabin.

now it is night-- your first night here. you've unpacked your stuff, taken a shower, got into your favorite sleep pants and built yourself a warm fire. you've got a cup of spiked tea and have sat down at your laptop. the writing program of choice open.

you watch the cursor blinking at you and as you wait for the words to pour out of you-- you hear it... footsteps?

it keeps happening. you get up and look around but no one is there. you turn on the radio to keep you company but there it is again.

it keeps happening and now you are almost sure you can hear someone whispering behind you as you continue to work.

a storm is approaching. it isn't here yet but you can hear it off the in the distance and there-- did you see it?

yeah, you saw it.

a figure.

the outline of shoulders and a head in the hallway, between you and the exit.

just sit there. pretend you didn't see anything. it is 1am. you just have to make it to morning then you'll be able to drive out of here. it is your best chance. you'll just wait it out until morning.

just wait it out.

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