The Intruder - Part 1

            

     She steps into the darkened house and closes the door behind her, locking it.  Without turning a light on, she wearily climbs the stairs and strides down the hallway in darkness.  Dropping her purse and coat into the chair by the door, she crosses the bedroom and turns the bedside lamp to its lowest setting.  The bulb casts a soft glow, illuminating the room enough to push back the night ever so slightly but not enough to chase the shadows from the corners.  She draws one slender hand over her face, gently rubbing her tired eyes then runs the fingers of both hands through her hair.  It’s been an exhausting week of long days, late meetings and too much driving.  All she wants is to drop into bed, slide between the silken sheets and drift off to sleep.

     He hears the faint click of the door as it latches and the fainter catch of the lock turning.  The slow steady patter of her heels approaching on the hardwood flooring invokes visions of her long slender legs.  A flush of heat washes over him.  He steps back and slips behind the heavy drapes just as she enters the room.  The dim light of the lamp brightens the room enough for him to see her now but does not reach him where he lurks.  He can see the toll the week has taken on her.  The weary droop of her shoulders, the lethargic pace of her movements, the deep sigh as she finger combs her luxurious locks.  In her current state, she would be easy prey for any predator.