…and as I walk back into my office, I see — or I think I see — a man standing to one side and looking through my filing cabinet.
It is me, myself. I am the one standing there, dressed in the same clothes I am wearing today.
I blink.
He is gone.
I am gone.
Unnerved, I get back to work.
As I came into the laundry room this morning, a shadow moved in the dim light from right to left — coming from the hallway and passing through the closed and locked door at the top of the back stairs.
The shadow was large, as wide as a refrigerator though not as tall. It has a solid mass to it, depth even.
I did not at any point feel afraid.
This is just another episode in a growing list of sightings here in The Last House — shadows mostly, sometimes dark and sometimes pale, moving up and down those back stairs.