Fate

I followed him home. Three times. He was always walking past my window in the middle of the night and I thought it was comforting to know that someone else was awake too. So I followed him. I tiptoed as softly as I could, dressed all in black, somewhat manically darting into bushes when he turned around. I didn’t think he could see me.

When he got to his door, on the third night, he turned around and called, “maybe next time you can just walk with me, instead of behind.”

I was just a stalker with quick beating heart, lying in a bush, feeling red, hot embarrassment swallow me up.