13 Jan, 2009
Who needs a burglar alarm when you live in a house built in 1943?
Posted by andrea tomkins in: Misc. life
There was no mistaking it. It was a creak on the stairs. I could even identify which stair had made all the racket – it was the second one from the top – a particularly squeaky little devil I normally step over when I’m trying to be ultra quiet near the bedrooms.
The creak wouldn’t normally be such a big deal, but when we heard it it just happened to be in the middle of the night and everyone was tucked safely in their beds. Or were they?
Mark lurched out of bed (or maybe I pushed him out?) and went to investigate. It was Sarah. She was sleepwalking. She’d gone partway down the stairs and back up again. Mark tucked her back into her bed and we all (finally) went back to sleep.
She doesn’t remember any of this of course, but I’d love to know where she was heading.
