Twisted Break In

Her thumb expelled nonsensical TikToks one after another, knowing pausing too long will add to the algorithm. Oops, scroll back: “I like those leggings,” she whispered to Lululemon. The pause let her peripheral focus on the sight of a slowly opening door.

She stood, walking towards the closet door. “This damn house,” she murmured then stopped: from inside the closet, she heard the sound of a creaking floorboard. Her breath stopped, remembering she was, as usual, alone in the house.

She pushed the door closed and exhaled. “It’s my imagination,” she reminded the cobwebs in the corners, emboldened by her courage. Then, she felt the cold breath on her neck.”

“Oh, to hell with this” she cried out and turned to make the call for 911.

The phone had disappeared.