The Thing by Frank Marion Palmer

Since that time I had been afraid of being alone at night. The very shadows on the corner disquieted me. I slept badly and was constantly disturbed by imaginary noises, but did not see him. That is all over, but he is there all the same. In my thoughts, he remains invisible, but that does not prevent his being there. He is behind the doors and the clothes covered in the wardrobe under the bed in every dark corner. If I open the door, the cupboard, if I take the candle to look under the bed and throw a light on the dark's places, he is there no longer, but I feel that he is behind me. It is very

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