November 3

I wake up as my husband’s leaving for work at 3 a.m. and am unable to fall asleep again when he leaves, so I take a little time to turn on my current favorite show Yellowjacks and make a warm drink.
About an hour later there’s a sound at the door, the wooden pumpkins that hang at the front of the house are being moved around but there’s no wind and there’s something more, a scratching noise.
The hair stands up on my arms and my cats are reacting on aggressively high alert to the noise.
I message my husband about the noise but he suggests the wind is moving the door feature around unlike usual. However something else occurs later in the day that leaves my heart pounding even still.

There’s a knock at the door around 11. I’m disheveled in grey sweats having spent my time preparing goody bags for my child’s birthday, but I answer the door anyway after seeing a well dressed elderly couple at the door. Initially I think maybe they’re from the Baptist church we stopped by for Halloween trunk or treat but it was something more alarming than that. They are visible taken aback by my appearance but continue on respectfully enough , they ask for my husband specifically and when I verify my space as his wife the husband dives into his spiel . After asking a few questions like my Russian language fluency and where I take guidance from, he offers up a religious packet in the Russian language and starts talking about the Bible. I mention being raised in a variety of churches and being baptized . He then shows me his tablet with the English translation beside them and point out a passage specifically they had hoped to relay to him which I can’t remember because at this point I’ve deduced that they not from the church we recently visited and they should have our address. They depart saying they hope we join them soon.
I’m glad I got ole snakebones at my back, a tapestry that dominates the entire entryway. Because this interaction made me feel extremely vulnerable.
I try calling my husband right away, and when he doesn’t answer I call my mom. She’s as alarmed as I am and confirms this isn’t your average Jehovas witness stopping by.

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