You watching me watching you. The bomb, it explodes. Smoke filled air chokes those who have not yet taken their last breath. Corner stores ripped apart by the rupture, cars parked on the side of the streets are no longer reflective of the perfect, pristine lifestyles these people live. Screams heard from children and mothers echo throughout this once utopian town. I study them. Each hysterical mother, brother, father figuring out how to process the past to the present, whilst trying to piece together the future. That’s the problem with this futile crowd, so focused on what comes next that they become blind to things paramount to them. They only have themselves to blame. It is days like this when I come to life. I feel so alive when I’m placed so close to death. There’s something about disaster that intrigues me, people rushing around in panic. It’s like watching rats on a wheel, going in circles, turning and turning over again with no destination. I’ve never really been one for involvement. I never enjoyed sports or had hobbies; I was small and quiet with no expectations of anyone or anything. I just sat back and observed the chaos. I liked to watch. The corner bar was unrecognisable, …show more content…
To me the man on the bench looked suspicious, but he didn’t even flinch when the cops came, in fact this man rarely moved at all, it was like he was frozen in time. Time seemed to be important to him, as the only movement he made was to look down and check his watch; maybe he was waiting for something. The hush of the police kept everyone on edge except of course the ‘stranger’, which I now named him. The silence from the police however only seemed to excite the stranger even more, it excited him in the sense that he felt more intelligent, more superior as though he knew more. All of a sudden it hit me. The stranger I was observing had become