Don’t Make a Sound

Fists strike clumsily at my front door. Again and again and again.

I thought I’d be luckier than this. I switched off the lights, didn’t make a sound. And I know they can’t see me all the way back here. In the kitchen, in the dark, under a bed sheet-covered dining table. Can they somehow sense my presence? Had I made the slightest of sounds?

They’re banging even harder now. Scratching, scrambling, feverishly anticipating, desperate for their prize. But they can bang all they want, I won’t move, won’t open that door.

After all, I don’t even know who Jehovah really is.


Author: jackkholt

Film graduate. Lover of lots of good films and quite a few bad ones. Reader. Writer. Novel in progress, obviously.

7 thoughts on “Don’t Make a Sound”

  1. We’ve all been there Jack.. Luckily I can see them coming from my front window and prepare a decent theological response, involving dinosaurs, before they reach the door. But I might think again about opening it now!

    Taut little piece . Well done

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