Short Stories

The Other Pedestrian

Hi all.
This is a story I wrote for my English assignment. It's one I don't hate so I've decided to put it here. It is a 2 part story and I wrote both parts in about an hour and a half.

Massive disclaimer: both parts were based off and inspired by The Pedestrian by Ray Bradbury. I do not own the original story this is based off nor do I pretend to. If you haven't read it already I would suggest doing so first and I will link it below.

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=https://www.riversidelocalschools.com/Downloads/pedestrian%2520short%2520story.pdf&ved=2ahUKEwiH_p223sj4AhU463MBHWaiDwAQFnoECGMQAQ&usg=AOvVaw1VPr9c1mGB2xvkfg-O6XhP

Now, without further ado, here it is

•••

At first glance, nothing was out of the ordinary. The street was quiet and empty. However when you looked again, there was a shadowy figure. He came every night, never at the same time, never from the same direction but he always came by. Twice. How does one know he was a he? As he walked closer, his figure became clearer, showing that it was indeed, masculine.

—

I always wondered what he was doing. It was a curious thing. He never stopped anywhere that I could see, only moseying along at varying speeds. Sometimes, on the colder nights, he had his hands in his pockets, or he wore gloves. On the wet and rainy nights, he walked with an umbrella in hand. 

I first saw him about a year ago. I had just finished a game and was preparing to wind down. I glanced out my window for a few long moments, enough for me to spot him for a fraction of a second. I did a double take and there he was, moseying along, swinging an umbrella in his hand. I glanced at the time and took note of it. I don't know why but I wanted to see if it would happen again. I watched until he was out of my sight, before shutting my computer off. I'd never realised how peaceful the outside world was at night. It's quite beautiful with the moonlight shining down on everything.

The next night I looked at my clock to determine when I would need to start looking for the man. However, he beat me to it. As I looked at the clock, I spotted him out of the corner of my eye. It seemed he didn't come at a consistent time. Or from the same direction either. He came from the opposite direction this time and was much earlier. I watched as he stopped and turned at the entrance to a street and walked down it. I stared in mild confusion down the street he went down, for a good few minutes after he was gone. I then shook my head and played a game that required no concentration - so I could think about it.

A few hours later, I spotted him again. He didn't come back up the same street he walked down, instead walking up the adjacent street. Again, I observed him until he was out of sight and then noted down the time.

This pattern continued for about a year. I noted down the times he came and I came to the conclusion that it was always no earlier than around 6pm that I would first see him and no later than about midnight that I would see him last. I was always curious as to where he went, but I had no way of finding out. Until I got an idea from one of my video games.

That night I got into some dark clothing, climbed out the window, down the fire escape and waited for the man to come. 

A couple of hours later, there he was. He came from Alder Avenue this time. As he got closer I stretched my limbs and got ready to follow him. Then, as he passed by, I heard him speak for the first time.

“What is it now?” He glanced down at his watch, reading the time with ease. “Eight-Thirty? Time for a dozen assorted murders? A quiz? A review? A comedian falling off the stage?”