You are walking down the street and you know you are in danger. Your only hope is to return home, but there are still several minutes of walk left. In the dark. Everything is a menace: the skeletal trees, the headlamps of the automobiles, the passers-by who hide who knows what intentions. The Moon watches you maliciously as you hasten through the streets, but you walked at a costant speed, without pause and soon you will be safe. There it is, the front door of your house. You reach it and you feel you leave the thousand dangers of the outside behind you. How can you be so naive? Under the light of the front door's lamp, that you believed it was the symbol of your salvation, there it is. You may escape any menace found outside, but you can't escape from it.
The dark presence that follows you always, anyhow and everywhere.