too quiet?

Seems like the time when you get most paranoid about someone watching the back of your head is when nobody's around. I've been working here for an hour, and all of a sudden I get a chill like there's a crowd of LARPers outside the door, planning shenanigans of some dorky sort. Thank Prometheus I don't have a webcam--I'd be paralyzed with fear every time I sat in front of the Internet Box...

If you walk through the woods, at night, moon shining through in patches, crackles under your feet, you're just sure, sure that you can't move quietly enough. There's like a werewolf or some sort of serial killer out there, watching the back of your neck, waiting until you stop looking around, and then: gotcha! Never mind that the box office on movies like that isn't so good, I mean, everybody sees them or knows about them. It's like a knawing little termite in your confidence, waiting to bring the structure down just when you wish it wouldn't.

Probably right now you're sitting in a low-lit room, glazed, reading page after page, needing to change your underwear because you've got it all wet (with sweat--what did you think I was saying?), and there's a little creak of noise, a bang, a muffled thud. It's not the dog, no, nor the cat, and it sure as hell isn't the kids, not now, you know what that would sound like if it were kids. And you're alone in the house, or at least you're the only one near, and there's routes in your house to come to the door of the room you're in right now with a minimum of fuss, if no one was paying attention; if no one was expecting this thing to be creeping up, ever so slowly, looking at you as you read on, not thinking about the hulking shadow just out of your peripheral vision, and you try to see if maybe the is something without moving your attention away from the screen, and then there's a little flash of motion in the corner of your eye--------