The Wanderer Who Cannot Protect Her Looking There

A tall thin man stood before the pond draped in an overcoat that went down past his knees, hands clasped behind his back. He was gone in an instant, a rumbent of a dream that hadn't been able to find me in my sleep. No human, no ghost lingered out there in the cold. And I knew I had just seen Sammy's decades old protector, the wanderer who did not really exist. A crazy thought took hold of me. He's facing the wrong direction. He can't protect her looking there. The room was dark like the rest of the house, except for the kitchen and master bedroom upstairs where single bulbs struggled to push away the gloom