Stranger at my Door

This story starts here.

The knocking became more insistent. I looked around quickly for something I could grab to protect myself; I remembered I had a baseball bat in the hall closet. I got the bat and approached the door warily. Leaving the chain on, I cracked open the door. "May I help you?"

The stranger in the trenchcoat said, "Good Evening, ma'am, I was wondering if Mr. Smith were at home."

I relaxed only a bit, "There's no one named Smith here, sir."

The stranger didn't flinch. "My apologies, ma'am, I was sure I had the right address. Good night, then."

I said good night and closed the door making sure it was locked. I didn't release my grip on the bat until I was sure he was back to the sidewalk. I gingerly walked to the side of the window to see if my visitor had indeed gone.

In the next flash of lightning, I saw that he had taken up his post across from my house once again. What did this guy want?

The fact that he left easy enough told me I wasn't in any immediate danger. My sense of foreboding would not go away as long as he was standing guard out front. I read for a while longer and blew out my candles. It was time to turn in.

One final glance out the window relieved my tension. I didn't see my trenchcoat friend any more. Even so, I slept fitfully that night.

The next morning, the rain had stopped. Power was still out, but the day was bright and sunny. The puddles should dry in no time. I got dressed and walked out to pick up my newspaper from the front yard. I was going to circle the property and look for any large branches that were displaced by the storm.

I found several branches right off the front porch and started collecting them. As I circled the house, I found more and picked them up as well. I left these in a pile to be taken to the curb later and went in search of my newspaper. As I bent to pick up my paper, I thought I saw a shadow move across the street. I must have been mistaken. Even so, I hurried back into the house.

I took up my now familiar post at the front window and scanned the area across the street. There was no sign of any movement. The previous night had given me the jitters.

After breakfast, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few items I needed. I had a strange sense of being watched. Indeed, I thought I saw a man in a trenchcoat at the far end of the store. By the time I rounded the corner with my cart, the man had disappeared. I only shook my head.

I made a couple more stops and had similar experiences at each stop. It seemed like the trenchcoat was following me. Each time I tried to confront the man and each time he was not where I thought he would be.

I went back home and returned to my book. Just as I got up to make some dinner, the telephone rang. It was good to know that service was restored. When I answered, the caller asked if Mr. Smith was at home. I told them they had the wrong number.

This story continues here.