He adjusted the chair, picked up a pencil, and tried to pick up where he left off. He’d drawn only a few lines when the doorbell rang. The sharp sound cut through the stillness of the house. Walter frowned, set the pencil down, and wiped his hands on a rag.
Hardly anyone ever came by unannounced. The mail carrier honked from the road if he had a package. The neighbors, what few there were, usually called first. He crossed the living room and opened the door.