I know.

by

Eight in the evening is by no means a time late enough to be thinking things. You shouldn't be second-guessing.
There's sound of engine roaring. Then halting. Gate opening. You'd probably expect footsteps approaching. Front door banging. Stranger barging in.
Brief silence, followed by sloppy footsteps stumbling over bags of trashes you're piling. Plastics scrunching. Panicky footsteps approaching.
Which takes you back to expecting door banging. Heavy breathing. Low-pitched mumbling. Stranger barging in.
But no. Silence is what's following. And it is rather unsettling.

You'd lose to curiosity. Leave your couch. Walk to the front. Take a peek.
A cat is rummaging through your bags of trashes.
And your gate is closed, well and fully closed.
A car is parked right across the road. Someone is chatting happily to your neighbor.

You shouldn't be thinking things. You shouldn't be second-guessing.