John walked up outside Erin's house. It was a nice little house, with white siding and a picket fence, and the porch light was lit. She was expecting him, which was good. She'd sounded really nice over the e-mails and instant messaging; hopefully she would turn out to be really good in person.
He was early, so he waited a moment until he was just-on-time, and then knocked on the door gently.
Nothing happened.
He shrugged, waiting a few minutes, and then knocked harder. The door gently swung open, revealing a nice little living room with one light on. There was a kitchen in the back, and presumably the hallway to the left led down to the bedrooms and bathrooms. But... there was no Erin. Her door was swinging in the breeze; where was she?