For those following and hoping for a little tease of the NaNoWriMo I am writing (and failing miserably to make the deadline for…)
Here’s a little sample:
Her dashboard clock said she had two minutes. One hundred twenty seconds.
And while it would not be truly dark with the setting of the sun, it would be dark enough for her neurosis. With the setting of the sun came things her mind did not want to think about.
Danger. Evil. Death.
All those things came with the night.
She needed to get inside.
She pulled around the moving truck and sped up, seeing her house in the distance and purposefully focused on her driveway ahead. The lights in the yard were already on as if a warm luminous blanket invited her home. Meredith’s watch beeped with the signalling of the sunset just as she pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine. She grabbed the remote on her visor and pressed the button that would suddenly light up her house with the brightness of every light possible inside. Scrambling out of the car, she ran up the porch, the lights there providing her dose of courage as the night began to drift over the trees that surrounded her home. The shadows seemed to lengthen across the yard towards her, forcing her to work with fumbling fingers trying to hold the key to the door.
Breathing heavily, the panic attack blossoming, she fit the key into the front door and managed to get herself inside, shutting the door with closed eyes so she could not see whether the shadows had reached the porch step, or beyond.
Fingers shaking, she scrambled to secure the door.
Breathe. Calm. Safe.
Nightfall, but she was inside, safe in the warm incandescent glow of lights all around her. The darkness was defeated once more. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Meredith leaned against the door, grateful for the quiet in her house. It was only then that she noticed the rumble and whine of brakes outside. Stealing a look outside through the curtained window beside the door, she watched as the moving truck that had slowly crawled down the street pulled to a stop next door, letting out a loud whoosh of the air brakes. Three men slid out of the cabin and a prickling of fear coursed through her at the sight of them.
She hadn’t realized the neighbors had moved next door, hadn’t noticed that the For Sale sign that now stood in the middle of the yard with the SOLD placard across it.
Someone had bought it?
She didn’t know how to feel about strangers moving in next door. Many of her neighbors had lived in her neighborhood since she was a little girl. She had grown comfortable with them; trusted them. They had been supportive and giving when her parents had been murdered. They had learned to deal with her eccentricities and her particular needs for safety.
Strangers next door wouldn’t understand. They could in fact force her to change her routine, and she could already feel the fear in doing that. Her routine is what allowed her to even get outside, rather than remain in the safety of her home. New neighbors would force her to change.
She stood there, her nose wedged to the window as she watched the movers begin to roll out furniture, covered in moving blankets that masked them from her eyes. She followed the men with her eyes as they climbed the stairs, wondering who the new people might be.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the man on the porch, tall and half hidden in those shadows that had made her flee into the light of her own home. He was difficult to distinguish from the shadows themselves, wrapped in dark clothes that melted into the darkness. Only his face was visible in the dusk.
And angular face that almost seemed to glow in the lack of light. Firm lips pressed together in a grimace under a sharp nose as his head tilted upward slightly, as if to smell the air around him.
And his eyes. Dark and visible even from the distance across the yard.
The man who was not looking at the men as they moved into the house.
The man was looking directly at her.