That Rare Old Nightmare

 It was late and the night was dark, nothing unusual there. I was in bed when I heard a scratching at the door. At first I attributed it to the cat, but it grew too loud, and emanated from outside the front door. I got up and looked out the window to see a car in the driveway and two figures at the door. I turned the outside light on and yelled that the police were called, and the figures hurried away.

 I went back to bed, relieved, but after a while heard the same noise again. I knew they were back. I went into the kitchen and closed and locked that door, which is usually left open so the cat can access its litter box. I went back to bed, again, but was too terrified to sleep. I guess you could say I must have slept fitfully to some degree, as it came to me that maybe it was all a dream. I wanted to go into the kitchen and see if the door was locked, as that would show if it really happened, but I couldn't make myself get out of bed, paralyzed with fear, I suppose would be the term.

   For some reason, I opened the front door and Dave was there, in the doorway, youthful and cheerful, and reassuring. I was so glad to see him, no longer afraid of the figures in the dark of the night. We spoke in the doorway but he wouldn't come inside.    End of dream.