The bedroom on the second floor was relatively clean. I emptied the contents of my bag, laid out the sheets, and was about to lie down and take a breather when the window suddenly shook.
It's not the kind that's blown by the wind, it's someone knocking on it outside.
I stared at the window for three seconds. The curtains were drawn and I couldn't see clearly outside. The street lights on the old street are so dim, who would stand outside the window?
Another knock.
This time the sound was louder, like knuckles rapping on the glass.
"Who?"
No one answered.
