WE INTERRUPT THIS LJ TO BRING YOU A PUBLIC SERVICE WORK OF FICTION
Just something I've been tinkering with.
If youve been reading my posts/comments or have read any at all some things might seem familiar, but i promise this is just a work of (my) fiction and any...aah what do they say on law and order? "any similiarties between any real persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental"
sure. we'll go with that
((Reviews loved b/c id rather retype this up here instead of talk about whats been going on lately and why ive been off this past weekend))
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[title desperately needed. im HORRIBLE with titles]
*
He watched her as she walked out her apartment door at exactly 7:33, turned back to lock it. She was walking down Turnbau Street and had hit the intersection at Maine at exactly 7:35. She faced down Maine Street, going left, re-adjusting her khaki bag on her shoulder.
He knew she had all of her art supplies in her bag, ready for the day's work. In the middle pocket she had her tablet, a plastic bag held her pencils, a legal pad where she took notes and a bottle of water and an apple, orange, or a banana, depending on which she had decided to chose earlier that morning. Her lunch.
When the light changed and the signal came on, she walked across the intersection onto Maine Street.
He was careful to stay back, keeping half a dozen anonymous people between her and himself. He'd become very good at doing this and she hadn't noticed him yet. It had been two weeks.
He followed her down the street, noting her choice of clothes this morning.
She'd chosen to go with the brown pants instead of the black ones he preferred and had picked a white silky top to match (his favourite) and had worn her long chocolate coloured hair down. He watched the curls, still damp from her morning shower, bounce up and down as she walked, and smiled as he saw that her small limp on her left leg was gone. He moved around an impossibly slow woman in front of him so he could get a better look at her feet.
A pair of brown Birkenstocks, and he could just make out an insert in her left shoe, levelling out her limp caused by uneven hips.
He checked his watch.
7:44
He hung back at his usual spot, just around the corner from where she worked. Grabbed a newspaper from a nearby vendor, leant against the wall and counted down the seconds.
She walked up the steps to the Police Station and opened the door at exactly 7:45 by both of their watches.
*
so what'd u think???
i'd love to hear
-kat