Thursday, November 3, 2011


When I got home from work this afternoon there was a note under my door. A typed out note with the heading:
Last week I was broken into in !:/;': Estate (where I live).

One of those mysterious types where there was no security breach, the baddies came in through the sliding door on the second floor and left through the front door, locking up behind them. Naturally no one saw anything.

Now, usually I am not scared. Heck, I've been home alone all week. So I just got a lock for the garden gate, and that was it.

But the later it's gotten, the more skittish I've become.

Why is that dog barking? Why is it barking so loud? Why is it still barking? I've never heard it bark before.
What is that drilling noise? Is someone taking the door off the hinges? Do they think I'm at the agm? Oh... It's just the fridge.


What's a girl to do on a night like this other than close ALL the windows tight and have some wine to know the lights out?

Let's hope for sweet, peaceful dreams.

For that yapping, freaking-me-out-now dog.

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