BLACK 

The chill wind slowly took advantage of the unsettled chaos that the evening sought to bring. It was the backdrop to a cool breeze echoing near Mr. Black’s residence. That evening, Jerry, his next-door neighbor, would normally be paying attention to everything going on in the neighborhood. For some reason, Jerry was not around. His garden hose was loosely piled in his front lawn. It laid there, still spewing water from its open nozzle. Jerry had suddenly disappeared. Everything in the neighborhood was quiet and no one knew any goings on over at Mr. Black’s house. Jerry’s disappearance wasn’t even a thought yet. The light in front of Mr. Black’s home continued to flicker with the sound small bugs attracted to the light.
(Bang, Bang, Bang)
A heavy 5’ 11”medium build man approached Mr. Black’s front door and forcibly hit the front door repeatedly with his hand. He appeared quite angry.
“Samuel Black, open the door – right now!” he shouted. “I won’t repeat myself and I will have to take matters into my own hands very, very soon.”
The man turned his head to examine his surroundings and the stillness of the neighborhood. Everything was peaceful; so quiet, he could hear the ticking of his watch. He became enraged, so much so that he removed his “Black Enterprises” work shirt, revealing a white t-shirt. He held his work shirt in his hand and banged on the front door some more. He noticed mail underneath the porch swing. It was addressed to “Samuel J. Black” for Black Enterprises, LLC. He picked up the mail and then heard the front door creak open. The front door somehow slowly opened as the man bent over to pick up the mail.
The dim afternoon light that tried to linger for more time, finally lost its fight to the evening night sky. There were streetlights situated in varying distances from each other, making it difficult to see what was going on in your neighbor’s home with only a flickering porch light. Then finally, Mr. Black’s porch light ended its flickering and faded into the now dark surroundings.
The only light was the porch light at Jerry’s house that reached only as far as a dim bulb could. Bugs scattered after Black’s porch light went out and flew directly into the trespasser’s face. He dropped the mail and his black shirt. He reached into his pocket took out his phone to turn on its flashlight. He remained quiet as he stepped up the small step into the house. He slowly pushed the front door further open and made his way inside, wearing brown size 12 steel toed work boots.
He inched forward as far as his phone flashlight would allow. The hardwood pine scented floor made the scent of the corridor reminiscent of pinecones. The scent became so overpowering that he had to use his shirt to cover his nose. His heart beating quickly, he picked up the pace. The front door was still cracked open and before he could go any further, he turned around and searched for a light switch located on the wall.
He turns on the light and noticed the living room to his right. A vacuum cleaner laid in the middle of the beige carpeted floor. It was still plugged in, but the power was turned off. On the left was the dining room and a glass table that contributed greatly to the ambiance of a modern-style décor, accentuated by a family photo hanging on the wall. A tall marble buffet reflected the light of his flashlight as he continued to survey the expensive architecture of the house. Just before he walked down the hallway, he glanced at the family pictures of three young children, assuming they were Mr. Black’s grandkids because he remembered seeing them on a jobsite once before. Mr. Black’s wife was not featured in a few photos and he was curious as to where she was at the time.
Trying not to make a sound, he cautiously approached the kitchen’s entrance. He saw a half-filled wine glass sitting on the tile squared kitchen table, the only trace of human life he could find. There was a small draft coming from the direction of the back door. He turned to look and could see the back door was open. Trash bags filled with autumn leaves were still on the steps leading up to the back door. Some blew inside the house.
As he moved closer to leave the house, he stepped in some blood; small drops of blood where Mr. Black was once lying. The man looked down and moved his foot; seeing himself smearing the blood on the kitchen floor. He stood in the same spot Mr. Black once laid and now could no longer be found. The house was quiet, and the intruder seemed confused. Stepping outside on the patio, he surveyed the yard with his flashlight. He observed the blood on his boots, a pitch-black house and Mr. Black apparently vanished. The man had his back turned, still examining the yard, feeling a slight chilling wind  brush across his shoulders.
Suddenly, the man felt his body being forcefully and swiftly pulled backward into the house. The pull was so quick and forceful that he dropped his phone due to his shock and surprise. One steel toed boot came sliding off and remained on the patio. He tried to escape the unseen grasp but could not; the black shirt covering his nose was pulled over his eyes as he was dragged back into the house. The back door slammed shut and everything in the home went back to pitch black. The porchlight immediately came back on and flickered off and then back on. The small bugs once again, one-by-one, were attracted to the light. The silence of the evening began again to make its statement.
Fighting for light became the paradigm of freedom.