The woman Who was Always already There

"There was a woman I didn't recognize, showing up in different rooms of a house that wasn't mine, never introducing herself, just sort of already there each time I walked in. didn't feel threatening, just strange, like I should know her and couldn't place why I didn't. She was doing small ordinary things, rearranging cups in a cabinet, standing by a window looking out at nothing in particular, and every time I tried to ask who she was my voice came out quiet, swallowed by the room somehow. she'd just glance over, almost smiling, never answering. I followed her into a hallway at one point and she was gone by the time I turned the corner, then reappeared further down like she'd skipped the distance entirely. I kept trying to catch up, that nagging feeling I was missing something obvious about her. The house kept adding rooms, her in a new one each time, same quiet not-answer every time I asked. I never resolved who she was. woke up still trying to place her face, already fading before I could."