5/12/2010 2:03pm [Or so I'm assuming.]

It happened just a few minutes ago while I was upstairs, windows and doors all open. I do this every now and then and my brother never knows about the crime I commit, because as long as I do it only once, the wind sweeps out the evidence and he doesn't know the difference. Lazily propped up in bed, with some pillows against the wall, I was breaking a house rule by smoking inside. Then I felt it against my back before I actually heard it. It was strong enough to penetrate through the pillow padding and I felt like I was being assaulted from behind.

BangBangBang on the upstairs door.

I felt panic and shuddered at its abrupt, unwelcome tone. Who would be coming over this afternoon? I thought. Ryan's at work, rent is on time [to my knowledge]...I fought through my fear and made myself get up and walk to the door. Almost as abrupt as this visitor's presence, I realized the irony in how unsafe it was to have a house so open. I could hear my brother's voice saying, I told you to keep the house locked for a reason, even when you're inside of it. There wasn't a time machine nearby to help me correct my mistake, so I met and stared in the face of my destiny.

My destiny took the persona of a middle-aged hispanic male with short black hair and a mustache, wearing a dirty black baseball cap. I didn't recognize him, that's for sure. I remained calm though I didn't feel calm at all on the inside, especially since his banging on the door demanded something instead of asking politely. What did this man want? Over and over in my head, I kept asking. I pushed open the unlocked screen door and wondered for a moment if he realized how open the house was, entirely.

"Do you need your grass cut?" the man asked.
"No", I replied.
"Okay, well we were just seeing if you needed your grass cut", and he continued to stand on the balcony.
"No I'm sorry", I apologized, and I shut the door.

He began walking back down the stairs. I closed the other door on top of the screen door and locked it. I thought it was odd that the man used the upstairs door instead of the door downstairs, and that he didn't have any lawn tools with him or downstairs in the driveway. And who was this we he was speaking of, as he was the only person who was there visiting.

Or so I'm assuming.

I put out my still lit cigarette in the ashtray on my windowsill and promptly took them both outside.

Not seeing the rip doesn’t mean you automatically
get to keep clear of the Hey-I’m-Bleeding part.

--Mark Z. Danielewski/House of Leaves