Martha’s Night
written by: Andrea Tillmanns
Martha’s fingers slid over the lock of the front door, paused, felt once more. There was no doubt that there were small scratches on the cylinder, the kind of scratches that might be caused by an inappropriate key – or a sloppy attempt to break in. She hesitated for a moment. She had her cell phone with her and could simply call the police. But if the thief was still in the house, he might have escaped in the meantime. And she hadn’t been going to regular self-defense training for almost ten years to avoid defending her house and property now. She may have been weaker than the burglar, but with a bit of luck, she could take him out before he even noticed her.
She carefully pulled the door shut behind her and quietly placed her cane on the floor of the hallway; it would only hinder her. Although she was wearing soft moccasins, Martha’s footsteps sounded far too loud in her ears. Seven more to the stairs, sixteen steps up, four and a half steps to the right. She missed the doorknob by mere centimeters, but caught it on the second try. Martha held her breath as she slowly turned the knob. It was well lubricated; even she didn’t detect a telltale sound.
As soon as she opened the door a crack, she heard the other person’s breathing. A man, alone. He moved carelessly, walking with trudging steps from her closet to the chest of drawers, cursing softly as he bumped the bedpost. There were no curtains or shutters in front of any of her windows, which he could have closed now so that he could switch on a flashlight without worrying. He had chosen the wrong evening to break in – he would have seen more under the full moon in two weeks’ time.
She quietly pushed the door open further. His breathing was steady as she moved closer to him step by step. Even if he looked in her direction, he would not see her in the impenetrable darkness. Her hand hit his neck in exactly the right place. He collapsed with a choking sound. She steered his shoulders to the side so that he didn’t fall onto the edge of the dresser. Then she removed the key from the window, locked the bedroom door from the outside, and went into the living room to call the police.
When she heard the sirens, she switched on the lights in the living room and hallway and cleared away the white cane as she passed. Such tripping hazards had no place here when the police arrived. Sighted people could be so blind.
- Martha’s Night - June 13, 2025
