Knocks at the Door
Righteous Wind
Knock! Knock! Knock! There it is again. At the same time every night. 9:37 p.m. On the dot. It never fails.
So like every night, you get out from your warm covers, creep down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone. You stand at the foot of the stairwell and stare aimlessly at the solid oak door.
It will not make another sound. You know this all too well. Nor will there be someone outside of the door when you look. You've given up on looking behind the door.