Image credit: Albin Mesnel

My scares should have been reserved for today, what with it being All Hallows' Eve and all, but my fright came on Thursday.

It was a dark October night and I was returning from work. A storm had blown through earlier in the week, so the evening was unusually crisp and clear. I walked between the terrace houses, feeling the eyes of work-from-homers on my back. I turned the key in the door to the communal hallway, climbed the creaky stairs, and tried to keep my footsteps light as I passed my rude neighbour's flat. My head was wholly absorbed by the prospect of the risotto I had waiting in the fridge/

I unlocked my front door and started up the internal staircase to the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on the lights. Out of the dark, something jumped down the stairs at me, hitting me in the stomach. I flicked the lights on in a panic and saw a small brown thing with a long tail bolting back up the staircase. A mouse. In my house.

Terrifying stuff, I'm sure you will agree.…