Caroline

It was minutes before midnight. There was a breeze in the night air. It swept passed Caroline as she spied through her neighbors living room window. Through the glass and red curtains, Caroline gazed upon an older man. The man sat, carefully lifting a tea cup to his wrinkled lips.

Caroline edged herself closer to the window. Pushing passed thorny bushes, she slipped and fell. She landed on the hard grass. She froze.

Inside, the older man looked up from a delicate sip. He hesitated, set the ceramic cup on the side table, and rose slowly. He puttered across the living room. Finally, he reached the window and pressed his cold hands upon the glass. It was too dark to make much of anything out of the shapes on the outside. He squinted. He peeled his palms away from the window, smudges left in their wake. He drew in a breath. It was harder these days. He appreciated every taste of air he could. The man turned, already anticipating the rest of his before bed tea.

Caroline wasn't aware, but she was not the only one watching others. Someone was watching Caroline. Someone was watching as she tried her best to remain perfectly still. Her face scraped by thorns. A small trickle of blood ran down her cheek. Someone was watching as the Old Man hobbled back to his chair, and Caroline counted the seconds until it was smart to get up. To get the hell out of there.