The door to the guest room always stuck, but once inside, the air felt ten degrees colder. Behind the peeling white paint of the built-in wardrobe lived the man the family called .
The youngest, Leo, discovered him during a game of hide-and-seek. Pushing past the mothballed coats, he found a man sitting cross-legged in the shadows. The Closet Man wore a suit of gray wool, far too large for his frame, and held a stopwatch that ticked only once every eleven seconds. "Are you hiding too?" Leo whispered. 11 : Closet Man
The Closet Man turned. His eyes were the color of faded newsprint. "I am the keeper of the ," he rasped. "The time between the breath and the word. The space between the dream and the waking." The door to the guest room always stuck,