Yesterday, I decided I’d better get some Christmas shopping done while things were still on sale. I went to the mall, even though it was snowing pretty hard, and got started. Of course, the first thing that caught my eye was a gorgeous red dress. I’d always wanted a dress in that color and thought, what the heck? It wouldn’t hurt to try it on. Half the time clothes like that didn’t look good on me, so I probably wouldn’t buy it anyway. Even with all my rationalizations, I couldn’t help the twinge of guilt that I was looking at something for myself when I should have been shopping for my family. Before I could change my mind, I found the dress in my size and hurried to the dressing-room. I had just taken my clothes off and was standing there in my undies when the lights went out. I let out a little yelp to find myself undressed and surrounded by total darkness. As my heart raced, my eyes adjusted and I realized a faint light was coming under the door. At least it was enough to see my hand in front of my face. That was when I heard footsteps approaching my door. They stopped right outside and, as the knob turned, I prayed I had actually locked it. “Don’t come in!” I yelled, and rushed to throw on my shirt. The rattling stopped and without a word, the footsteps retreated. What the freak! I quickly threw on my pants, shoes, and coat, then grabbed my purse and high-tailed it out of there. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized my shirt was on inside-out, but at least I was in one piece. And the red dress? After that, it didn’t really matter. Who needs a red dress anyway? So maybe from now on, I’ll try harder to listen to that little voice in my head. The one that’s usually right.