Archives
The Watcher
The Watcher
The Watcher
Sweat beads on his brow. She looks at him, directly, waiting for a response. On his shoulder Fran explains something about something. He misses that too. Inevitably she is goingg to want some kind of response to something she has said, so he really ought to pay attention and focus on the the conversation at hand. Why would he owe the other girl any kind of an explanation anyway. He was here with Fran. He was a cool guy, he didn't know, or have any reason to know who she was. Fran had a personal situation and wanted his advice on the proper way to resolve it. He felt through the window and over Frans freckled shoulder that she was preparing to walk downstairs to get a cup of coffee. But first she was trying to decide if Fran was any sort of competition for her. They lived close enough that if he were to choose the right Deli right now he would see her. Or he could wait out in front of her apartment until she returned. But that might officially make him a stalker. Besides Fran was here and he had no reason to go to the Deli. OF course there was always a reason to go to the Deli wasn't there. Maybe some new juice. Or maybe they are running low on TP, or toothpaste, or batteries, or fruit. Who was she, where could she have come from? Was he the only one who saw her? She didn't seem to look at any of their other neighbors. He didn't think there were any other people watching from the ajoining apartments. And she seemed pretty surely upset by what he was doing right now. He really should be listening to Frances. She was several blocks away, standing in a window, track lighting, loft, probably 15th Floor, camesol, staring at him. He started this himself last night. Gazing out after dinner last night, he saw her flick on the light, and begin a tripped out dance routine. Probably the authentic movement school, which he has never seen, but imagines looks like this. He watched for hours learning her bodies movements as she did. Everything was perfect reality tv in reality through his window. Then she stopped, looked at him and flicked out the lights. Today she was back in a little more revealing clothes. (Anthropologists refer to this as the observer effect whereby, a subject observed in the wild changes their behavior in reaction to being observed.) Probably she's not a fememinst. She began her authentic movement at nine and 15 minutes later, stopped and toasted him. Then Frances stopped over he's been ignoring her ever sonce. But no longer. The woman around the way will be there tomorrow, a little intrigue is needed here he thought, as he closed the blinds and asked Fran to eleborate on resolution B.
Twitter Notes
Loading...
Last 2 tweets from forbiddencolors:
People talking about 'berlin art':


