he woke up gently – aware of the presence of a strange being in his room. he can smell him – like raw sewage. the hair on his nape rise – in excitement. funny how a certain realization takes away the fear of dying. but nice how the abnormal that results from this becomes normal when you are thrown into darkness. he gropes for the beanie that had fallen off his bald head while he slept. the being hears him stir and steps into the wardrobe – there is a streak of light from the security light in the patio streaming through a little parting in the curtains – the being sees him get off the bed. he walks into the ensuite toilet. moments later the being hears the deep-voiced water forfeits hit the loo, and then the flush. “four fifteen. shit!” he has a seven thirty-five flight to catch. he comes back into the bedroom, picks a suitcase by the couch by the window, and starts to move about the room collecting items he needs for the trip. he opens the wardrobe door, picks shirts and pants, folds them into the suitcase and goes back to the wardrobe to pick a jacket – the being is standing at the end with the jackets. oh, he smells awful, he muses. he stands for a moment contemplating which jacket to pick. satisfied he picks the third jacket. “if you came for something you better get it now. i hope you can see in the dark.” the being steps out of the wardrobe, and stands just a foot away from him. the streak of light catches his face. he realizes he cannot see him.
the being gropes along the wall, switches on the lights – the alarm goes off.