Tangledskein
Experienced
- Joined
- Oct 13, 2003
- Posts
- 1,214
Semi closed thread for MizTabby but there might be room for one or two more.
The key glided into the lock; with a slight push Steve opened the door and entered the hall-way of his flat. He hated the place, he hated hiding and would love to be able to say that Corinne was definitely off his Christmas card list and permanently so. What she had done to him could not be undone, to what depths of depravity she had taken him, he could not recall, nor did he want to. Now to top all of that he had to hide from her, the media and just about every punter out there who now knew his face. He knew they all laughed at him, secretly wished they were him, “I wouldn’t have run”, someone shouted at him the other day, “I woulda gone back for more!” his maniacal laughter breaking into a smoker’s cough.
The sad truth was…the appalling truth was, in his way Steve knew he still loved her, but the ball was rolling and the authorities would have to deal with her now. As he wandered towards his bedroom he nipped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, he felt now more that ever that he needed to wash away the grime that was his life and to attempt to move on.
The binocular telescope was fixed upon the bedroom of the flat opposite. Its movements the mirror image of the man therein. Beside the knee-high booted legs was an array of other surveillance equipment, most of which had or was being used to record the movements of this man.
Caroline looked at the brief again. The newspaper cuttings showed a haunted figure, the trauma of a thousand years of torment written upon his aura and projected for those with the talent to see; but none the less a handsome, rugged face, made thin by his ordeal, vulnerable to the point of extinction. She new that many would not have survived this persecution unscathed and believed that was the underlying reason for her watching him now..
The key glided into the lock; with a slight push Steve opened the door and entered the hall-way of his flat. He hated the place, he hated hiding and would love to be able to say that Corinne was definitely off his Christmas card list and permanently so. What she had done to him could not be undone, to what depths of depravity she had taken him, he could not recall, nor did he want to. Now to top all of that he had to hide from her, the media and just about every punter out there who now knew his face. He knew they all laughed at him, secretly wished they were him, “I wouldn’t have run”, someone shouted at him the other day, “I woulda gone back for more!” his maniacal laughter breaking into a smoker’s cough.
The sad truth was…the appalling truth was, in his way Steve knew he still loved her, but the ball was rolling and the authorities would have to deal with her now. As he wandered towards his bedroom he nipped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, he felt now more that ever that he needed to wash away the grime that was his life and to attempt to move on.
The binocular telescope was fixed upon the bedroom of the flat opposite. Its movements the mirror image of the man therein. Beside the knee-high booted legs was an array of other surveillance equipment, most of which had or was being used to record the movements of this man.
Caroline looked at the brief again. The newspaper cuttings showed a haunted figure, the trauma of a thousand years of torment written upon his aura and projected for those with the talent to see; but none the less a handsome, rugged face, made thin by his ordeal, vulnerable to the point of extinction. She new that many would not have survived this persecution unscathed and believed that was the underlying reason for her watching him now..
