[Winter In Brooklyn: Short Story with Unusual Experience]
It’s winter and it’s snowing but it melts when it hits the ground. I’m 26 and live outside New York. There is this girl, she works in a comic book store or maybe she’s just there at night. It’s in Brooklyn and it’s open until eleven at night. Her name is Kristen. There is graffiti in the neighborhood, it’s quite dark in the store, sharp light over the magazines. There is often a few customers around.
Last night there wasn’t, I was alone with her. She said hi when I came in, she has brown hair, a white T-shirt. I stoped by the counter, she then did that sort of mixture between breathing a sigh of relief and something not far from laughing, it takes like a second, she did it with her head slightly leaning back. Her eyes glanced.
I asked her: “Do you want to come over to my place when you’re done here?”
She answered: “Yes.”
I hanged around in the store until it was time to close it. We didn’t say one word to each other, when she was done closing the store we headed towards my car. It’s black with blacked out windows. At my place we just watched TV, she looked at me and laughed a few times, maybe there was something insecure about her laughter.
I’ve been following her a few times, everywhere she goes. I’m not going to do that again.
I have been stalking her for ten years, beneath the wallpaper in my house is large pictures of Kristen. I been paid by one of her brothers to check on her, I’m a private investigator. No, I’m not, I just know her from the store and there is no pictures. She’s the star in my world, she’s the only one there.
© Copyright Martin Norberg. All rights reserved.
__END__
