They are watching.
They are watching me, following my moves, what I do or don't. They are out there and look at me, and suddenly I understood how the animals at the Zoo feel. The feeling spread through my whole body, and the sensation, of someone creeping over you, paralyzed my sense. I was sitting in the same position for the past hour. Sipping, at times, from my – now – cold coffee. The taste lingered down my throat and I needed to brush my teeth, but I couldn't move. No. They were watching over me, I felt them, then I caught a glimpse of one of them. A man. Short, bald and fat. He looked at me through a binnacle. Next to him sat a telescope, as if the binnacle weren't enough.
Since I sat down, the man left twice and a woman took his place. I presumed she was the owner of the telescope, since only she used it. Then others came, a few of them, a little girl with ponytails, an old woman, a bearded woman, a man in a dress, they all took turns and watched me.
I feared to move.
I took a deep breath, placed the mug on the table, and blinked a few times. I needed to move. A girl in blue yoga pants was watching. I began to curl my toes, then stretch my legs under the coffee table. I stretched my arms, then wiped my palms on my leggings. I could see them, with the corner of my eyes, they were gathering. The bearded man returned, the girl with ponytails, the fat one, they all came and crowded in front of the window. My body tensed. I swallowed the lump in my throat then forced my legs to move. I had to move. I turned around, and tried to ignore them, then walked out of the living room when I heard a loud noise. The window shattered. The fat one was hanging over the edge of the building, holding his weight with one arm, while in the other he held the binnacle. He kept watching me, until his arm gave up and fell.
They are watching me, even now.
