I always sleep with the door closed. It doesn't matter if the day has been furnace-like and a cool breeze could be blowing through my room, I have to have the door closed. Having the door closed somehow makes me feel safer. As though a 5 cm thick piece of wood can ward off all the evil things that would wish me harm.
Last night my sanctuary was violated. In my dream I was living in a fabulous little studio apartment in the bottom of a library (don't ask me!). I awoke to the presence of someone in my room. I remember quite clearly screaming, which I don't think I've ever done before. This caucasian male in his mid 40's tried his level best to murder me before being chased out of the building. It's an awful feeling to wake up and know that the one place you always blindly assumed was safe has become the haven of murderers. Oh, and thank you to my younger brother who left the door to my fabulous studio apartment in the bottom of a library open. Asshole.
Glad to see people "enjoyed" my foray into romance territory. I'm seriously thinking of turning to pulp fiction to pay the bills. It's either romance or erotica and I think there's more chance for me to incorporate sci fi into romance stories than erotica.
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