I was being silently and subtlety jostled awake. I slit opened my eyes. Paul stared past me to the other side of the room with fear. I turned over to follow his line of sight. The room was as dark and as hot as fresh asphalt. The front door was open, but only by a centimeter. The moonlight gleamed like the edge of long silver sword in the crack of the door. I immediately felt the cold pierce of fear Paul was feeling. The door had been completely closed when we got into bed. We stared for a full minute, frozen in position. Then, ever so slightly, the sliver of moonlight got an inch wider. Then stopped. Whatever was pushing it open was deliberately and strategically nearing us with the prowess of a hunting panther. Paul muffled his mouth with the pillow. Then we saw it. The Eye. The shadowed black socket, prying through the inch-wide sliver of moonlight into our privacy… “Go away!” I screamed aloud and sat up in a sweat. It was four in the morning. I could not tell if I had screamed aloud or only in my dream.
