Next morning.

The creatures of the night are silent, not visible. The cool morning air is inviting and has a pleasant balsam scent. I can’t believe this is the same empty house in which I found refuge. I remember tripping over a broken floor board near the door they threatened to cross, but couldn’t or wouldn’t.

Now, this place still looks in disrepair and the low morning sun does show all the holes and cracks in the walls, but it’s inviting somehow. Dare I say charming.

But yes, I am safe. Perhaps survived world be a better word, and survived due to something I can’t easily explain.

One of the things placed its taloned hands on the door frame, craning its neck to look for me, its prey. It didn’t enter. Then it recoiled. It withdrew quickly with a horrific yelp before another would replace it and it, too, recoiled upon touching the door frame.

This morning I was determined to see what had kept me safe.I looked for broken glass, an upturned floorboard with, perhaps, a nail protruding. Nothing of the such. It was a dried up bundle of herbs wrapped in copper wire.