In the Shadows

The sun’s coming down, casting a rainbow of colors in the sky above, and a dim glow in the sea below. She is standing on the dock, leaning over the rail, enjoying the slow descent of the sun. The wind, blowing from the south, caresses her face and ruffles her hair, carrying her scent all the way to me. She looks so peaceful.

She tilts her head upwards, inhaling the salty smell of the sea and as she does I can see her hair reach further down her back, tracing her body, and I have a perfect view of her long, sleek neck. My lips ache to kiss it, my hands to trace it, not just her neck, but her slender figure as well. If you asked her, she would argue that she is athletic, I know because I have heard her before, although, she doesn’t know.

She is wearing her white, short, sleeveless dress, the one that hugs her figure and allows a perfect enjoyment of her long legs. The dress has golden stripes, a perfect contrast with her cinnamon-like skin. The lines of her body, so perfectly designed, each centimeter, as if sculptured by God himself. My heart is beating fast and my palms are sweaty. Another strong breeze plays with her hair and the skirt of her dress.  She reminds me of stories of ancient times, of goddesses that would walk among us mortals, and it occurs to me that she is what they might have looked like, women with unparalleled beauty.

She doesn’t know it but I am here, watching here, watching over her. I am always here, the one constant in her life, and I will always be. Not like those men that keep coming into her life. They come in and out, always leaving, always disappearing, a cool fleeting breeze on a hot summer’s day. Never enough, never right, not like me. I have always remained, all through this time, I have always been here, I have taken care of her, of them for her. I get upset thinking of them, none of them deserved her, she is too good, too smart, too much, she is perfection, and no one will ever love her the way she deserves to be loved, the way I love her. One day she will meet me and she will know why nothing else worked, she will realize I am the one.

It’s been years now, studying her, watching her, getting to know her, what she likes, what she doesn’t like, her wants, her needs. I know things about her that no one else knows. I know she takes her morning coffee black, no cream, no milk and only sweetened with white sugar, this however does not apply to her mid afternoon coffee. Every morning, the same, except the third week of the month, where out of fancy, she takes tea, and even then is the same, green tea with honey.

She has quirks, cute quirks and very specific. She always sleeps on the left side of the bed, in spite of having an entire queen size bed to herself, and always gets up on the right side. That is where the rug lies and she refuses to change it to her side; I once heard her argue with a friend that it is because it’s good luck to wake up on the right side of the bed, it is how you tell the world you are ready for a positive day.

She likes to set the alarm clock for 5:30 am, though never really waking up at that time, and always snoozes it 3 times before finally deciding to rise. I find it charming really. I’ve adjusted my schedule to hers, I don’t mind, I get to spend more time with her.

She always looks out the window before she leaves the apartment, never really looking at anything, just stares for some minutes, and certainly never towards the park, it offers a great  view of the bedroom window on her apartment. If she did she might have seen me there, sitting on the bench, looking up, watching her go about her morning; she would have been more careful around her place, would have closed the curtains more often, not inviting any strangers to look into her life. But she never does, and I have had to clean up a couple of messes because of it. She is trusting, sometimes too trusting, not questioning people’s intentions, always believing the are good-nature. This has been a problem at times, good thing for her I have always been here to take care of those things.

Every third Tuesday of the month, she wears a green silk blouse, sleeveless with a halter neck. She loves that blouse, and I’ll admit it, looks good o her, as much as I hate it. It was a gift, from “him”. They were engaged to be married, “Mr. Perfect”, too bad about the accident though. She was devastated, and it hurt me to see her in such pain. She cried for weeks, wouldn’t leave her apartment for days, but she is better off without him, she didn’t know him the way I did, the things I saw him do. How friendly he would get when he would go out to the bars at night, telling her he was with friends…some friends he was with, and I saw, I knew. I was not going to let her go through that, through him, being mocked like that, taken for granted, she deserved better than him, so he had to go. It was a tragic thing, but necessary.

I wish I could have comforted her, been there for her, but she doesn’t know me yet, and it would not have been the right time to allow myself to be seen. It’s OK, I can wait. Though I have a feeling the wait is about to be over. Next week marks the year of his death, and she will be going into her coffee shop earlier than usual, wearing that same green blouse, asking for her black coffee. It will be the perfect time to come up next to her at the counter, order my coffee, just like hers, compliment her on her blouse and paying for her order as well. She will smile, I know, I will ask her where she purchased the blouse, though I know where it came from, but it does not matter, she will look down before telling me it was a gift, I know there will be a shadow of pain in her eyes, and it will hurt but it’s ok, I know I will be able to ease the pain, in time, all I need is a way in, and I will get it. And then, I will shake her hand and introduce myself…”Hi, I am Linda by the way”

Author's Note

Please point out anything you think I should take a look at. I would greatly appreciate it. Just don't be mean about it.

Reviews

[Calleline]

I absolutely love the twists in this story.

I knew the narrator was a stalker from the first two paragraphs, but that introduction at the end blew me away. I applaud you for coming up with a unique and refreshing piece!

The narrative itself was well-written. The descriptions were clear and I could definitely see myself in the shoes of the narrator as the sentences went on. I love how subtle the narration was at stating the degree of her obsession, and how, in that way, it's difficult to judge the character as a villain despite her actions. I love how sane the sentences sounded while it depicted a hint of insanity. This story is definitely worth a read.

The first sentence sounded a bit off to me at first despite how beautiful its descriptions were because it seemed more like a dependent phrase than a sentence. Re-reading it again, I realized it was because of conjoining "sun" and "is" to form "sun's" . I understand it's conversational English. It just took me a few minutes to realize that the subject in the sentence wasn't the "sun's coming down" but only the "sun."

That aside, this was a beautiful piece. Great job!