Somewhere in the 1 o'clocks a noise emerged from the kitchen. My shoe habit has my thermostat dialed down and my mattress buried beneath a plethora of comforters, blankets, and sheets. Naturally, I squirmed my body lower in the cotton mess of a bed.
If it’s a murderer, he’ll steer clear of the sheets! I closed my eyes wishing my blanket could channel its inner Hogwarts and become an invisible cloak.
Bam. The noise returned.
I arise from my bear-like slumber grabbing the first object within reach.
Peaking around the hallway door, black stiletto in hand, I see him.
And. Then I woke up.