I remember the sound of hands slapping against concrete and got up to peer through my curtains and see what was going on. At first I just saw a few tarpaulin sheets blowing in the wind but as a particularly harsh gust swept by, it lifted the corner of a sheet just enough for me to see dozens of scrawny hands attached to a tube-like body.
The hands quickly grabbed at the sheet, tugging it back over itself before skittering after the two larger sheets in front whose hands I couldn't fully see, just the tips of their clawed fingers that looked to be as long and thick as my own arm.
I didn't sleep much for the rest of the night, continuously checking the window to see if they'd come back or left any sign that they'd ever passed us by. It wasn't until several days later that I finally found proof that I hadn't dreamt it all up.
Two handprints the size of most of my body, neatly side-by-side beneath my window.
To let me know they'd seen me too.
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