I barely made it out of my house before tears poured down my cheeks; a chill wind decided to find its way to my eyes.

I shivered.

There was a letter on the ground, it was from ITT. I picked it up, planning to return it to the box it belonged to, only to realize I wasn’t sure which box that was supposed to be – I never did pay attention to which boxes were which. I just know the one that belongs to me.

Knowing the address, however, I walked to the door, and was struck by how silent my boots were on the pavement, then concrete. The wind wasn’t so loud that it was drowning it out, the footfalls just weren’t there.

A distinctive, if soft, chink as I slid the letter into the screen door, and I was walking away.

Fear had accompanied me that whole time; worried that I might perhaps be caught, and accused of something. The lights were ablaze inside the house, the Christmas Tree was twinkling through the window. A place for fear, this was not.

So I considered where to let my feet lead me, and discovered a chill that was as cold as an iced wind cutting through me. Standing by my car, I felt like a giant. The world seemed smaller than normal until I started moving back toward my door, and everything seemed to grow; to become normal again.

I knew there was no change in size, but the closer I got to my door, the more sounds I heard. I heard my boot fall on the concrete as I walked under my porch light. I turned, staring into the darkness, listening to the sounds beyond my hard.

The sound of feet met my ears, like a number of… things… skirting the edge of vision, just beyond what I could see as flickering shadows. I looked into the stars, and muttered under my breath, “You win this round.”

I felt the heat from my house on my cheeks first. Then I couldn’t see.

I closed the door, and felt reassured, and worried at the same time, as the deadbolt slid into place. I walked down the hallway in mostly-darkness, my glasses still fogged from the heat, and stopped outside my door.

The faint outline of light seemed to tell me to unbutton my coat. As I stood there, flipping the buttons, I wondered why I was pulling it off before I got into my room. Once the buttons were done, I pushed the door open.

Light filtered into the hall, I’ll never know what was waiting for me in my room, had I left my coat on. Perhaps the coat was my armor, my flagbearer, saying that I was ready for a fight.

Perhaps it was the chink in my armor, broadcasting the place to attack.

Perhaps things would have been the same either way.

The chance to discover the other path is gone.

Putting on my shoes feels like the last thing I might ever do.

I slipped on a pair of jeans, tightening the belt so they’re snug against my body. My coat is lying on my bed, waiting for me to grab it on my way out of the door.

Sometimes, after reading something that sounds deliciously occult, I have this desire to reach out into the spiritual world and grab a hold of it. A man, grabbing a live power line, I guess. This is a desire that I’ve had for a very long time, and sometimes it gets the best of me.

So as I pull my socks on, I take the time to enjoy the feeling of the soft fabric tugging at my dry, hardened skin, wondering if I will ever feel it again, knowing that the night is going to end without me discovering any kind of supernatural activity.

Sometimes I’m thankful for that.

Other times, it leaves me feeling empty.