Suddenly, I sat right up in bed. I heard something, so I sat there for a few moments without moving a muscle and listened. Someone was talking downstairs.
Now I know I wasn’t dreaming. There was definitely the sound of someone in my house.
I thought about getting my gun before venturing down the stairs in the dark, but I didn’t. Even calling 911 flashed through my head for a moment, but I didn’t do that, either.
I got out of bed and headed for the stairs. I didn’t turn on any lights because enough comes in from the yard light across the road. I carefully eased down the stairs, silently moving one step at a time.
I peeked around the corner into the living room, but no one was there. That’s odd. I know I heard someone talking. There was no one in the dining room or the kitchen, either.
The back door was unlocked, so I decided to check out the porch and see if there were any tracks in the fresh snow on the deck. Nothing.
Now I know I’m a little crazy, but I wasn’t dreaming. I definitely heard someone talking downstairs. Still convinced, I went back to bed. Now you know there was no way I was getting back to sleep. At that point, my mind was going a mile a minute, so I lay there and pondered the events of the world.
I rolled and tossed and watched the clock. Then at precisely 4:30, I heard a woman’s voice once more.
“Low battery! Low battery!”
Can you believe it? My smoke alarm talks to me!
Rick Brockway writes a weekly outdoors column for The Daily Star. Email him at email@example.com.