Footprints From Nowhere

It was a long night.  I was restless and had trouble sleeping.  A couple of times when I managed to doze off I was jolted awake by something.  I wasn’t sure what it was but a presence seemed to be lurking about.  Although there are several ghosts that come and go around my apartment whatever was about on this night was different.  It seemed to be outdoors rather than inside and once I even got out of bed and looked out the window, but I saw nothing unusual.

It was just the beginning of dawn when I was again awakened.  This time it was a sound.  A creepy moaning noise followed by what sounded like very rusty hinges in need of a copious oiling.  I lay in the bed covered by goose bumps.  The sound didn’t repeat but I could feel a faint vibration.  Curiosity finally got the best of me so I got up to see what I could see, which at first turned out to be not much.

Looking out the bedroom window I saw that a heavy snow had fallen during the early morning hours.  As far as I could see there was a pure white and trackless landscape.  Going to the window that overlooks the highway I noted that no plows had cleared the road and no cars had been been by.  All was smooth and unbroken snow.  This was very unusual for a major highway.

As I turned and started down the hall to the front door the vibration I was feeling momentarily increased but just as I reached the door and began to open it the vibration completely stopped.  As I gazed out the door, again, all I saw was fresh, untracked snow.  I was about to close the door when I happened to notice something in the snow just beyond the bottom step of the stairway that descends from my apartment to the walkway at ground level.

I quickly went down for a closer look and what I saw made me shiver.  There, in the middle of otherwise trackless snow, were two small footprints.  It looked as though whatever had made them had simply descended straight down from the sky.  Nothing nearby or within sight had been disturbed in any way.  No tracks, other than those two prints.  And they were fresh.  It was as if who or what was there had been snatched up just as I began to open the door.   Needless to say I probably set a speed record climbing the stairs back to the door.

What was this all about?  As of yet I still don’t know.  I’ve checked every way that it could have been done as a hoax or joke and concluded it was neither.  Maybe some day I’ll know what left those prints.  Maybe I’ll never know.  Maybe I’d just as soon never know.

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