Don'cha Know?Don'cha Know?Don'cha Know?9 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He started following me on a Monday. I take the El to get around, mostly, because my college and my apartment are near stations. I know the subway systems aren't too great at the hour of day I make my way to school, but it's a sight better than walking.
By that Wednesday, I was pretty sure I was being followed. I mean, the poor guy was probably homeless and a beggar, what with the ratty coat he wore, and the fact that I never saw him anywhere but in the subway. But following me he was, smiling his gap-toothed grin whenever he noticed me noticing him. No one else did, moving around him like he was just an object. I snorted the first time I made that comparison. Looking at the businessmen and -women, the tourists, the suburbanites that crowded the subways, I thought cynically that they probably didn't see the poor man as more than an object.
But still, it was getting creepy. On Thursday, I confronted the man while on my way home from a half-day of classes.