hiding from the closet-peekers
I'm in M.'s house. Someone knocks on the front door, and M. tells me to go hide. I run into the next room. I look around, wondering where the best place to hide is; I see a big pink couch and decide to crawl underneath. Once I'm wedged under the couch, I feel vulnerable, that I'm still visible. I hear voices. It's a man and woman who came over to visit. I decide to resituate myself, to go upstairs. I dash across the room, hoping nobody saw me. I go upstairs to a big bedroom. There is a huge closet that stretches across one wall (without any doors). I crawl back behind the hanging clothes and bury myself underneath a pile of clothing on the floor. The woman and man enter the room (without M.). "Let's peek through their closet. You can learn a lot about people that way," says the woman. This scares me. I'm afraid they'll find me.
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