The Stranger

Someone was knocking at the door. Loudly, incessantly, knocking at the door. The banging sounded almost like drums, with its even, pulsing rhythm. It continued for so long it began to sound pleading, as though someone was desperate to enter, even though no one had, or probably ever would, come to the door. However, this sound was still quite powerful with its loud, full sound and it was almost confident, in a way. It was both pitiful and fearless simultaneously. It was the sound of a brave soul who was so needy, yet so unyielding.

And the pounding continued, constantly present. The neighbors couldn't stand it any longer. The apartment was empty and everyone in the building knew it. Who was this petulant visitor who wouldn't stop knocking so loudly at the door? The person had begun the noisy mission at six in the morning. It was now well into mid morning. The dimly lit hall had brightened and noises from other occupants began to fill the building. But someone kept knocking on this door.

The person standing at the door would appear anonymous and mysterious even if one stood quite close to look. The person wore all black from head to toe. Even the visitor's short brimmed hat was black, pulled low over his eyes. The ghost-like figure was of a common build and height. He seemed almost to disappear into the shadows as he stood there knocking.

The person, presumably a man from his height, was slightly hunched and stood with his feet close together. One hand remained in his coat pocket while the other knocked at the door at chest height. His gaze was directed towards his knocking hand as though he was more interested in his hand than what lay behind the door. When the building manager came pounding up the stairs, the mysterious visitor only jerked slightly at the sound. The manager asked angrily about the incessant sound, which caused the knocker to cease knocking, though his hand remained curled and near to the door.

After the manager finished his rant, the man all in black said nothing but withdrew away from the door with a nod. The manager huffed a little and then stormed back downstairs. As soon as the manager left his sight, the strange visitor returned to his spot in front of the door, though he made no sound. He peered through the peep hole. Despite seeing what was obviously an empty room, he remained in front of the door.

For hours, he stood silently in front of the door. The apartment complex was now alive with sound: people walking up and down the stairs and halls, children laughing and shouting, and people chattering. The noises of activity did not affect the man. As patient as time itself, he stood in front of the door, ignoring all else. Occasionally someone would pass, sometimes openly staring, sometimes politely ignoring him. One or two tried to ask him about what his business was, but were met with silence.

Time passed slowly for the strange man all in black, but it did pass. The sun rose to noon and then proceeded with its slow descent. As the sun set, it eventually shined through the window in the hall and caused a painful glare. The man squinted, but did not turn his head. The day continued to pass and so the sun eventually lowered below the window and then below the horizon. The sky darkened until it turned to black and little bright stars began to pop out.

With almost perfect alignment to the clock turning to twelve, the man in front of the door removed a pen and a piece of paper from his coat pocket. He scribbled a short note on it, using the door as a writing surface. He placed the pen back in his pocket. For a moment that stretched on for a great length of time, he held the note in his hand, reading it over and over. With almost a sigh, he finally knelt down before the door, slipped the note underneath door, and then left as suddenly as he'd come. No one at the building ever saw him again, nor did they even remember him for very long. Eventually, a member of the cleaning staff found the note that the mysterious man had left behind. It read: I came back for you, but you hadn't waited for me.