After the long day I've had at work today – mostly thanks to David for being a dick all day – I just want to read my book and relax. I make my coffee, grab my book and head to the living room. I already got the fire burning. The sofa cushion curves around my butt as I drop onto it. I open the book and take a sip from my cup. The ticking of the clock pulls my gaze up to see what the time is. Half past eleven. My head instinctively turns towards the sliding doors. I couldn't stop thinking about that woman all day. She's not here tonight. But it's not midnight yet so she might still show up. A part of me wants her to reappear and another part of me is hoping she doesn't. It's a war between curiosity and fear. I begin to read where I last left off in the book and soon I'm pulled into the story so deeply that I forget about the real world. Books have always been my escape. I completely immerse myself in the new world that the book brings to life and become a live spectator of the unfolding events. Sometimes I even become one of the characters. Tonight is no different. I, Levi Stutword, am Jack Dame in Furnace.
The last sip of coffee leaves my cup and I'm pulled out of the book I'm reading. The firewood has been turned to coal and the time reads twenty minutes before one. I put my page marker inside the book and close it then like a spark of electricity the thought of the mysterious woman flashes in my brain. I abruptly shift in the seat so that I'm facing the sliding doors and my eyes widen. She's back. I quickly realize that the light is on and if she turned she'd be able to see my silhouette though the curtains so I jump over the sofa and leap to the light switch that's next to the sliding doors. I realize how abrupt all of that was and that maybe jumping over the sofa wasn't the best idea. If the on light hadn't drawn her attention to my living room the thud and sudden darkness definitely did. But what's done is done and I'm too curious to just stand behind this wall. I slowly poke my head past the wall while hoping she wouldn't be staring right at me. She's still standing in the same spot, motionless. Just like she was yesterday. She's wearing something warmer tonight. I can't make it out clearly past the curtains so I pull the curtain to the side a bit and move closer to the glass of the sliding door. She's wearing a long red coat. High heels are keeping the long coat from touching the ground.
"Is she a prostitute?" I hear myself whisper.
"Are you going to stand there watching me all night again?"
I jump back and freeze. A few deathly silent seconds go by. Was she talking to me? No..! No... Definitely wasn't talking to me. I slowly walk back towards the sliding doors. I stop behind the curtain and stare at her afraid to go any further.
"Do you have a name or do I just call you creepy guy behind the curtain?" she spoke again.
This time I am certain that she's talking to me. I can feel my body tense up with anxiety as I lift my hand to unlock the door. It clicks open and I slide the one side open. As soon as I step out onto the porch the icy wind cuts through me making me shiver. I walk to the edge of the porch and pause.
"Why are you standing out here?" I ask trying to hide the shaking in my voice.
Her hair looks smooth as silk dancing with the wind and I can pick up her sweet scent in the breeze. She turns around slowly and as the light spreads over her face her skin glows like it did last night. A form fitting long black dress is revealed underneath her open coat. The air gets stuck in my chest as I lock eyes with her. She's beautiful.
"It's rude to stare," she says snapping me out of my trance. "I noticed you watching me last night," she took a step closer and I instinctively took a step back. "Is that something you often do?"
"I'm s- sorry." I stutter and realize that I took a step back so I move forward again. "I was waiting to see what you were doing." I say in defense. "Not so much staring as observing." I stand up a little straighter satisfied with the response I gave.
"Well what have you learned from your observation, stalker?" she says with an expressionless face as she lifts her arm to moves a strand of hair out of her face.
"Nothing," I say even though I want to tell her how beautiful I think she is. "You just stand there." I lift my arm and slide my hand over my head. I'm subconsciously mimicking her movements. I hope she hasn't noticed.
"I have to go. Goodnight creepy guy behind the curtain."
She doesn't wait for a response before she turns around and walks slowly out of the light until she's gone from view. I walk back into the house and close the sliding doors. Who is this beautiful stranger?
YOU ARE READING
An Astute Observation
FantasyA young man sees a woman standing under the light pole in front of his yard one night and observes her. He soon learns that there is more to her than meets the eye and that she would change his life forever.
