I have never seen the movie Psycho, but I still have an underlying fear whenever I have to take a shower when I'm home alone.
This past summer we moved to a new apartment. The kids were at my in-laws while my husband and I tried to pack up and move as much as we could while they were gone.
Our first night in the new place, before we picked up the kids, my husband went out to get us some supper while I took a much-needed shower.
I had only been in the shower a few minutes when I heard the back door open.
"Wow! That was fast!" I thought to myself.
I heard his footsteps walking around the apartment while I shampooed my hair. I could already imagine how good our food would taste after a long, hard day of work.
At the end of my shower, I toweled off and put on my comfy clothes. I opened the door and called out to my husband.
Total silence. No one was home.
I asked my husband when he finally returned if he had come back in to get something after he left. Why no, he hadn't. Why did I ask?
I know that moving to a new home means getting used to new sounds; it means learning the ways a new place will shift and settle.
But I also know what it sound alike when a door is being opened and footsteps are echoing on a hardwood floor.
Which begs the question: who (or what?!) came into our apartment that night?