Somebody Is at the Door -3-

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“Is anybody there?” I ask, but the words don’t come out of my dry mouth. They are still inside me, weak and unable to move. I wished my dog was here, but he escaped from the back porch and run away right before the storm. I called and called in vain. And then I had to close the door to stay away from the unleashed wind.

“Help!” This is my only word I know, my only thought.

The front door shakes and I lean on the wall, watching.

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