As you are walking along the street, away in the company of your own thoughts and planning your day ahead you reach your shop, delve into your coat pocket and retrieve the key to the door, lifting it and inserting it into the lock…
It is still dark, gloomy, with rain in the air, a cold wind, and those that scurry past do so unseeingly, heads down, shoulders shrugged into upturned collars and eyes ahead and down, scanning for the next puddle to avoid.
You start to turn the key and are snapped out of your dream by a firm grip that encircles your wrist, loose enough to enable you to complete the unlocking of the door; firm enough that you can’t break free.
A voice whispers in your ear… “unlock the door and go in. Lock it behind you”.
You enter, compliant, wrist still firmly ensnared. As you walk through the door you are aware of a body behind you, pushing close into you, immovable and guiding you in. As you turn to lock the door from the inside the body turns as one with yours, breath on the side of your neck under your ear. “That’s right, lock it, leave the key in”.