Every Tenant Of Flat 3 Has Drawn The Same Man In The Same Corner

I rented Flat 3 for two years. It is a nice flat. High ceilings, bad windows, a landlord who actually fixes things, which in this city is close to a miracle.

In my ninth month I woke at about three and there was a man standing in the corner by the wardrobe.

Hat with a brim. Long coat. Absolutely still. No face that I could see, and — this is the thing I have never been able to explain to anybody who has not had it — I was not able to move, and I was also not frightened in the way you would expect. It was closer to the feeling of being in a room with a stranger at a funeral.

He was there for what I would guess was thirty seconds, and then I could move, and he was not there.

I told the landlord because a pipe was leaking and I mentioned it in passing, like an idiot, and I expected a joke.

He did not joke. He said, "Would you draw it for me?"

I said what.

He went out to his van and came back with a folder.