. . .

She was intensely absorbed  in reading an odd book one late December night. Then she heard three faint knocks on her door. "Who's there?" she muttered, her voice failing her. Only three faint knocks  again answered her. She stood up and walked to the door with a foreboding of something evil. In a hell-for-leather manner, she opened the door. A very cold wind brushed against her face. It was darkness. Nothing more.