The Woman
She didn't know how long it had been since someone had walked through that door. Maybe months...maybe years. A woman stood in the doorway, silhouetted by streetlamp light.
Dorcas?
The woman clicked on a flashlight. It's beam flickered over dusty photographs and cobwebbed corners. She stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind her. She paused to examine the coats still hanging on their hooks. Dorcas's blue scarf still hung next to Marlene's faded red cap.
In the tiny kitchen, a stray ray of moonlight illuminated her face. She had a full, round face framed by soft brown curls. She was not Dorcas. The woman continued exploring the flat, never picking anything up, but examining everything.
As she left the same way she entered, she took a long look back into the house. Marlene hadn't shown herself in the time the woman had been in the house and was still hiding in the darkness. But the woman seemed to look right at Marlene. And she had a strange sadness in her eyes. It tempted to Marlene to reveal herself and ask why. But she kept still. The woman turned and shut the door softly behind her.
...
Marlene didn't really understand time anymore. It seemed to ebb and flow from her consciousness. But some time later, the woman came back. This time, she was not alone.