Part II

The Fat Man was standing in the doorway between my kitchen and the dining room. He was blocking my exit and I had no way out and yet I didn't feel threatened. Despite feeling relatively calm despite of my visitor, I hoped my children didn't come downstairs looking for their dinner.
Thoughts of my family brought me even a little more around to reality and I started to notice things about "he fat man". I noticed he wore brown dress slacks and a white collared button-up shirt. His brown hair was parted on the side. His face was good-natured and kind. I felt no menace or evil and I felt myself begin to relax.
His smile widened so that it spread to his eyes, as if to let me know everything was fine. He then slowly turned away and I noticed his form start to waver and dissipate. Then he was gone.
To this day, I do not know who the fat man was, but I remember a momentary sadness when he left me. I have never come across a photograph of him. I don't think he was a relative (at least not one that any family member has ever spoken of) and I have never seen him again.
Truth be told, I miss him. For those moments he was with me, I felt comfort. I find myself hoping to see him again and maybe have a chance to chat.