I'm Ada Limone and this is The Slowdown.

On my friends' property in Sonoma, they've given me a little place to stay over the last

12 years.

It's been my landing spot, my haven, where I can come to my home valley and have a place

to stay every few months or so.

Recently, after visiting my parents at their house for dinner, I went up to the apartment

in the hills.

My friends were traveling so the property was empty.

I was working on poems and emails and work before I called it a night.

Even while busy, I felt my love for my little home away from everything.

But right as I was about to wrap up work and get into bed, it sounded as if someone

was shaking the handle to the kitchen door.

And then they stopped and shook the other door handle.

My heart was racing.

I could barely breathe.

I didn't have a plan for this.

I grabbed a heavy flashlight that could double as a weapon and said through the screen,

hello, and there was no answer.

I said it louder and with more gusto, hello, and nothing.

So then I did what was terrifying me the most.

I opened the door.

Right then, a bird tried to fly right into my face and I shut the door quickly, preventing

...