It was a cold autumn night.

A businessman wearing a black suit with a white tie,

carrying a briefcase stepped of a bus. The wind whistled through the treetops,
and crusted, brown leaves continuously fell from the branches. The man
wandered along the path, then turned into the driveway of his house. Whistling,
he pulled his keys out of his pocket and put it in the slot. Twisting it, he heard a
strange noise. Well, the noise itself wasn’t strange, but what the noise was, was
strange. He twisted the key some more, very slowly; he heard then clicks of his
key, but straight after, the clicks of another key turning. He looked around, then
spotted another man standing by the door of the house next to him. But there
was no one living in that house. It had been abandoned over twenty years ago.
He stared at the man. The man started back. He looked very unhappy and quite
old also. He wore the same suit and tie as the businessman. They continued to
stare. Growing tired of the staring, the businessman turned the key the whole
way, then stepped inside, hearing the footsteps of the man in the house beside
his also. As he climbed the stairs, he heard not just his footsteps, but someone
else’s too. He stepped on and off the staircase, hearing a repeat every time. It
wouldn’t make sense to be the man next door. Their houses are at least twenty
metres away from each other. It would be almost impossible to hear the
footsteps of another one’s. he continued up the stairs and turned the corner into
the bathroom, where he saw the old man’s face in the mirror.