The Wait: A Paranormal Short Story

Day after day, rain, shine, or even through the cold winds that brought glistening white snow and frozen waters, I would see him. Every day, sitting in that same spot, waiting. Waiting as the commuters made their way to work. Waiting as they came and had lunch around the pier. Waiting as they made their way back past him again, on their somber journeys home. Then when the sun was gone, so was he.
What he was waiting for all this time I didn't know. From the window where I watched the world, I chronicled his comings and goings in my mind. I never saw him arrive and never saw him walk away, but he was the same each day, never bringing anything with him besides himself and never leaving anything behind.

I opened the window to let in the autumn air. September struggled to hang on to its languishing summer, taking shelter in the leaves of the trees that still clung to the branches. Nevertheless, they would have to fall soon. And, eventually, winter would come.

I breathed in the dryness of the breeze, sneezing as it tickled my nostrils. Today would be the day. I would finally leave my perfect fifth story bedroom view in my oversized townhouse and walk down the stairs and out the front door.

"I can do it," I kept whispering to myself.