Footsteps

Knock, knock. 

It’s someone at the door. 

Who could it be? 

Is it that Amazon package you’ve been hoping for?

Open up. 

Nothing’s there.

“What’s going on?”

You whisper to no one there. 

Slam that door. 

“Man…I’m hungry.”

Walking to the kitchen, looking for some grub. 

A tap on the shoulder. 

“Turn around.”

“What the hell is going on?” 

No time for games. 

Footsteps tapping on the ground. 

Turn left, turn right.

Still no one around. 

“I’m here for you.

When you least expect it that’s when I appear.”

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