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A stranger observes the home of David and Janine from across the street. Bathed in darkness, the man makes no movements. He simply watches. Beset by a dark secret long kept dormant, David and Janine's seemingly happy marriage will be tested by this stranger. But by confronting their past, this enigmatic watcher may be the least of their concerns.
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THURSDAY 9:58PM
“David, can you come here?"
The tension-filled tone of her voice startles me, but it’s not truly worrisome enough to warrant my detachment from the leather couch that I am currently lying on.
“What do you want?” I mumble with minimal audibility.
“What I want is for you to come here."
Janine’s voice has risen in pitch.
Is it anger, I detect, or fear?
“Janine, do I really need to come there? Can’t you just tell me?"
I hear her footsteps, and Janine appears in the doorway of the living room. Her eyes are filled with terror and rage.
“There’s somebody watching the house,” she says. Her lips are quivering, a sure sign that she is telling the truth.
“What do you mean someone is watching the house?”
“Just come to the front door and see for yourself."
Sighing as if it’s a tremendous effort for me to get up, I peal myself off of the couch and follow her out of the living room and into the front foyer of the house.
“Okay, so where is this mysterious stalker?”
Janine shuts the lights off, and after a few seconds of hesitation, points to the small window situated in the middle of our front door.
Smirking, I step towards it and look out.
Positioned a few feet back from the street light that stands directly across the street from our house is a man.
He is staring directly at me.
I pull my head back for a second, blink my eyes, and look again.
The man continues to stare directly at me.
Though the shadows conceal much of his identity, I can still make out a few details.
The man is covered from neck to toe in black. Black shoes, black slacks, black turtleneck. His face is what is most disturbing of all, though. Enriched by his baldness, the man’s face is covered with white powder. The whiteness of the face glows eerily from beneath the streetlight.
A lit cigarette dangles precariously from his lips.
I pull my head back slowly, and stare at Janine with rising uncertainty.