I Know You Don 't I? Essays
He lifted her into his arms. She the fear she felt left her body suddenly, she had never felt so safe. He carried her into his home, walking through a dimly lit hallway passed several doors. She couldn’t really see anything but she could tell that his home was very old, as though it had been the home to several others before him. After he placed her on a sofa in a living room, he took a few more steps and knelt down in front of the fireplace. A minute or two later, he had started a fire, and it seemed to light the room enough for her to look around.
She noticed that there were several paintings on the walls around them. They were real paintings, some portraits of people. She had never seen paintings like these anywhere else than in a museum. She looked back at him, he was still poking at the fire that he had just made.
“Is this your home?”
“Yes. You must be cold.”
He turned, making…