i am in the kitchen of the apt. in amsterdam. the kitchen is in the back of the apt., with a glass-windowed porch beyond it which leads to outdoor stairs. there is also a room off to the side which has a glass door that leads to an interior stairway. i hear someone coming in through the interior stairway and peek a glimpse of someone i know does not belong here. i freeze at the kitchen counter realizing that if he hears a sound all he has to do is look in the window and he will see me. he passes up to the next landing. suddenly, i hear him opening the locks on the back porch doors. he has seen me. i quickly open the side door, hoping he will think i've gone out that way, then head for the entrance and go down the spiral stairs to the street as quickly and quietly as i can.
i get to the street. it is raining and cold, early morning. many of the shops are still closed and i am walking barefoot in my pajamas, hoping he is not following me and hoping to find an open shop at which to get help.