Surveillance

before

illness that makes your skin crawl, like

ds, I didn't move. I just lay there, heart beating slow and uncertain, lik

was still o

than it should. It hadn't moved, but it felt louder somehow, like it had s

nowing... it ch

or was cold beneath my feet, but I didn't flinch. My skin prickled for a different reason now -

not

y eyes hovered near it, around it, anywhere but on it. I didn't need to see it again.

outright, but I'd r

were

m. Corners I used to trust. S

al was eve

spaces. Steam billowed out into the hallway like a slow exhale. I kept my eyes on the water the whole time. Not th

it. I didn't want to see myself yet. I felt like something had cra

. The softest fabric I owned. Nothing clingy. Not

tarted c

that felt normal. I scrubbed the counters, rewashed dishes, even wiped down the knobs on the cabinets.

d there, staring

me. Joggers passed. A couple walked a dog. A tram rattled by in the distance. Everyt

it

to decide what

table and ope

e, I did

every

very bullet poi

gh to consider it. The new apartment was in a different part of the city, less central, but safer. M

era. On

i

ide his own encrypted system. No physical contact. No requests for behavior. No interference wi

e

s wat

d've mad

e it

one person who could pull the footage offline, who could trace

n't fr

t was

s fun

n the most

elt like something I coul

ain and whispered to the em

ment didn

rse it

ever

hone and typed a

d the term

ong second - long enough to feel like I might

I hit

ive minutes late

e by 4 p.m. Pack only what you nee

nd

a w

even mean in a

nd walked to

t this version of my life to come with me. Just the basics - lapto

handle and faint coffee stains. But something about it felt too f

eft

ng. Just sitting. Letting the minutes bleed past. The quiet stretc

y the door with my

Dark. Quiet. A man stepped out - middle-aged, clean

uest

smi

nam

imbe

't loo

n't w

blurred. The city I thought I'd restart my lif

ife and the next, I let go of the girl who