So there I stood, my bare nakedness my shield in the dark. I was cursing myself internally for not getting a cat to blame that blatant noise on. Bobbie's thin string of panties got tangled around my toe as I was walking through the short hall. I'm glad she didn't see me fumble in the dark as I shook my leg like a rabid dog to let the cloth loose.

You know the feeling you get when you can feel something is there, but not see it? It's like someone telling you to taste an orange, even though you don't have the fruit in front of you. Your taste buds recollect the taste, and your brain relays what it tastes like. Same thing with knowing but not seeing. Maybe... Maybe more like when you were a child, lurking around the neighbourhood haunted house. You haven't actually seen a ghost, but your subconcious tells you there is one there. You get the prickly skin, your eyes move about rapidly, the air tastes like electricity, etc.

This is what it was like while I walked down the hall, peering about, feeling the bumps of plaster along the wall. Should I have brought a baseball bat like they do in the movies? Too late now. Going back to the bedroom would be disasterous in her eyes.

Of course the corners looked dark. The first place you always look in situations like these is the corners. But what I was looking for was not in a corner. It was conveniently sitting on our ratty and tattered couch with a smile on it's face.