Doors To Mirrors (Excerpt 67) Blogging
In the time difference of three hours away, Nadja is up much later than normal and has decided to visit the blogging site before she goes to bed. In her bedroom, with a chair pulled up in front of her dresser, she looks at her laptop. Her evening has stayed quiet with no further calls from Aaron and this is perfectly fine with her, but it is also frightening.
“What is the saying? Revenge is best served cold?” She questions to herself. “He would definitely want revenge on me for leaving him.”
Nadja leans out from her chair to look at the lock on the front door. The bolt is thick and long and she feels confident it will keep most intruders out without a problem. Yet, she knows Aaron’s anger so well that she feels no door or window will protect her for long. She cannot help but want to add more strength to her security. Walking to the kitchen, she takes one of the chairs from the table and carries it to the living room. Pushing the back of the chair up under the handle of the door, she hopes this will add one extra barrier to anyone trying to enter and by anyone, she means Aaron.
“He has not called back and I do not know what that means.” She mumbles as she sits down, once again, in front of her laptop.
After signing into the dream blog, she reads a few notes from fellow participants and then notices Viktor’s blog has lit up once again for the second night in a row. She begins to read his description of the cabin and older woman. Shaking her head a bit dismayed, she cannot help but think of her aunt Josephine when she was in her late forties. She would wear her hair down like that at times and in typical fashion for her aunt, she would have been very understanding of anyone who may have wandered by the cottage.
“Wow, this is very interesting.” Nadja types as a note to VikT1000. “It sounds a lot like my Aunt and her cottage.” She says aloud in a light-hearted manner as she types the same words.
Nadja continues to read the narrative of the events he experienced while other bloggers offer their input as they usually do here. The wind outside the cottage seems to be gaining strength and the shrub outside her window scratches at the glass creating an odd and somewhat frightening sound. Turning around in her chair, Nadja looks out at the darkness of the night and there it is again, the scratching sound.
“What is that?” She questions as she gets up from her seat and walks over to inspect the window.
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