As long as the door remains closed I’m safe. The knocking may be Girl Scouts selling cookies. It could be Mormons harvesting souls. Or it could be the police thinking that I robbed that guy on the news. Kind of like Schrodingers Arrest Warrant. Not guilty by means of staying inside.
The knocking stops. I peek through the curtains, but don’t see anyone. There are no police cars in the street. Then a face appears a couple inches from the other side of the glass. It’s my sister. She brought me food. She puts it on the ground and leaves.
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Talk to me dude