Excerpt from To Clair

Clair braced her hands against the wooden walls, and carefully stepped down the old stairs. “Please don’t creak,” she whispered. She stepped onto the first landing, then down a few more steps. Clair found the metal knob and slowly opened the door into the kitchen. More silhouettes. As she moved from total darkness into a lighter area, Clair recognized the familiar shapes of her kitchen. There was only one dark shape between the refrigerator and the door she could not identify. It seemed to move slightly. This meant that she couldn’t run directly to that door and to the garage as she had planned. The alternative route was to crawl along the cabinets, behind the island then into the dining room and out the French doors. Clair’s senses were as sharp as she could ever remember. Crawling on her hands and knees, she reached the dining room and hid under the table. At once, strong narrow beams of light slid from one side of the room to the other. This time they were coming from outside. They had to be headlights. She waited and did not hear a car door. Clair tasted the metallic zest of fear in her mouth. She felt something closing in on her. She smelled it. Like a statue, she remained still for what seemed like forever.

Clair knew it was time to move. Creeping out from under the table, she stood up. Her frame lagged in slow motion as if she were playing a part in an old black and white film. She didn’t see anyone around her. Then there was an indistinguishable sound, which seemed to come from far away. Clair tried to locate it but couldn’t. There was no longer an opportunity to turn back. The French doors opened and the cold night air hit her body with a welcoming force. Whatever it was, it was close now.

She bolted and ran as if she had been running for years. As she turned into the driveway she hit against a body full force. Clair opened her mouth but there was no sound. She just couldn’t surrender.