Coming home?
Sitting at the kitchen table, one Summer's day a couple of years ago, having breakfast and reading the paper, I had left the back door open for the dog to go in and out as she pleased. As I sat there in silence, I distinctly heard someone lift the hanging beads away from the door and step into the house, I heard their shoe connect with the step. Now I rarely leave the door open unless I'm near it, especially after a mink incident (one day I'll doubtless relate the tale here) and more pertinently, in case some scrote strolls in and helps himself to my stuff, as is their wont, evidently.

I couldn't actually see the back door from my seat at the table, it's in the utility room, so I said nothing, I didn't move, I just lifted my eyes and waited for whoever it was to move further. Nothing.
I glanced down at the dog, who had been waiting to scrounge some of my breakfast, and she had turned her head to the doorway and was sitting expectantly too, ears pricked.
I heard a newspaper being folded, and at that point thought
"Fuck it, this is obviously a burglar", and leapt up and across to the utility room doorway, screaming "Banzai!!!" or more probably "Motherfuckeeeeeer!!"

As you would guess, from the general subjects in this QOTW, there was no-one there. The beads weren't moving, nothing, just an empty room. I obviously called the dog a cowardly bastard and ran into the garden to see if there was anyone trying to escape, but nothing.

I was slightly disturbed, I KNOW the beads had moved and someone had stepped into the house, but I wasn't scared, just puzzled.

A few days later I was informed that the old boy who used to live next door, who had reluctantly gone North to live with his son as he was getting too old to cope on his own, had died that week. Sitting quietly, reading his newspaper, apparently.

His house had been bought by a builder who has extended it, and moved the doorway etc. and I like to think that the old chap came "home" on his death, didn't recognise the place or the layout, so came next-door to see if the neighbours were still the same.
I was, I still was cursing and swearing, this time at some invisible visitor with his paper under his arm.
(Rsoles, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 20:40, Reply)