When Love Won't Die

Eleanor Bennett jumped as the shadowed silhouette hovered on the other side of the patio door. Her hand shook as it reached for the table beside her, steadying her as her knees went weak. Leaning on the solid wood edge, she felt herself gasp for air, having held her breath for too long. She clamped her hand over her mouth, terrified that the intruder might have heard the sound. Her feet seemed magnetized to the floor as her eyes darted around the room. She had to think – couldn’t panic.

The black outline of a hand finally released the door handle. Eleanor’s blood pumped loudly in her ears in the silence. The shadow moved away from the door.

Somehow, she found the strength to leave the sanctity of her spot in the dining room and headed for the telephone in the kitchen. Her determined steps slapped against the tile floor, sounding much heavier than her one hundred and thirty-three pounds.

Eleanor swallowed, trying to quell the panic that had momentarily driven the familiar telephone number of her nearest neighbor from her racing mind as she jabbed at the telephone. She knocked the receiver from its cradle, sending it crashing onto the kitchen floor with a loud thud. Bending to pick it up, she froze as each tiny hair on the back of her neck prickled. Now the intruder was at the front door.