Dear Diary: The stranger came again. Night after night he challenges me in the hallway, cloaked in the shade of darkness, growing ever taller before my astonished eyes. I stand frozen in place, afraid to speak or move, yearning only for the calm of morning when I may again bask in the warm illusion that I alone am master of this domain. Yet every sundown he is there to mock and scorn, imitating my every move. “Begone, vile specter!” I cry in vain, but the silent brute lingers. I fear that madness soon may be upon me.
Via Flickr-er pslee999.