It was prior to the renovation of the church in which I grew up. Since I have not visited that church for many years, I am privileged to visit it at night during the quiet hum of the humidifier and the ocassional roar of the furnace. It is a waiting adventure, since I don’t know who I will see or where I will go.

   In the back of church there is a stairway that connects the basement with the first floor. I wait at the top of the stairs. It is an “L” shaped stairway, so it is not possible to see at once, who is coming up the stairs until they reach the heel of the “L”. I wait, paralyzed with anticipation. Perhaps a friend with whom I can talk? or someone I’ve known briefly. I sense, rather than see them in the dimly lighted stairway.  Why don’t they hurry? Why do they creep slowly up the stairs? I take one step downward, but I still can’t see who it is. They move a little to the left, so that the incandescent bult makes shadows on the walls. In this way I can see the form of the person before I can actually see them.  There is no need to be afraid. I know everyone in this  church. There are no predators or unwelcomed guests, but still they linger, casting at last a shadow that I can just make out.  I know who it is now. The mystery is solved. With a blood curdling scream, I recognize him. It is Thrax! His Grim Reaper fingers raised in a threatening fashion. I have time to escape his infectious touch. He is only a shadow. I must get away, but alas! I can not. 

  My husband was watching TV, but comes to see about me. “Having a hard night, eh?”  He asks?  I take my Melatonin and go back to a deep sleep where there is no Thrax nor “L’ shaped stairways.