His smooth skin felt good, Samantha felt his muscles tensed as he moved against her. He sat up then suddenly, the moonlight flooded the tiny blue room. Samantha touched his back, his skin was now very cold, but she left her hand there. He brushed it off and stood up. He looked back once but didn’t say anything, and then he fled the room. Samantha called to him to stay, but nothing left her lips.
A siren screeched outside Samantha’s flat. She awoke with a start; a cold sweat lined her brow. This was the third time she had had this dream this week. Who was this man and why couldn’t she get him out of her mind. The phone rang.
“Hello?, Sam speaking†she answered wearily. There was a dial tone and nothing more. It was too late to be bothered Sam though and put down the receiver. Sam awoke the next morning it was seven o’clock and the sun was already lighting into her apartment, the coffee was boiling and the paper was outside her door. She opened her door and gathered the paper. Flipping to the comics as she usually did. As learned as Sam was she did not deny herself life’s small pleasures.
When she flipped the page she noticed an envelope in a pale emerald ribbon, her heart skipped a beat. Her hands were trembling now she pulled the small scrap of paper out of it and on it; there was one thing, a small circle with a line through it. Sam’s head was swimming, “what is this†she thought.
Then a feeling struck her much like the strange feeling she got in her dreams, a feeling of being watched. She couldn’t shake it, Sam once again was starting to sweat. Then came the slow but steady knock on the door.
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