I think it must have been about a decade ago. We lived in an apartment in a large city. It had a very strange layout. The front door on the first floor, immediately behind it a couple of stairs. Then the bedroom was another two flights of stairs up.
The front door opened with a buzzer, from the second floor, saving a lot of running up and down the stairs to open it. If you leaned over, you could usually see who was at the door.
One morning I expected a package and when the doorbell rang, I didn’t check, I just buzzed. Then I realized my mistake. A man smacked the door open, and started to come up the stairs. There was no mistaking his intent, it radiated from every pore of his being.
Then in a split second I felt such a presence behind me, as if someone really tall stood there, and put a hand on my shoulder to comfort me. The man stopped half way up the stairs, and looked up with wide open eyes. He staggered back, almost fell, and ran off the stairs and down the steps leading off into the street.
I ran down the