Three Knocks in the Log Wall

I live in a log house deep in the woods with my wife. No neighbors. No streetlights.

Just trees, wind, and silence. Last weekend, she went to visit

her sister, and for the first time in years… I was completely alone.

At first, it was peaceful. I made dinner, lit the fireplace, and enjoyed the

quiet. Out here, you get used to strange noises—branches snapping,

animals moving around. Around midnight, I heard something different. Three slow knocks.

Not on the door. On the wall. I froze. Our cabin walls are thick logs.

You don’t just knock on them. I told myself it was an animal. Maybe a branch.