Member-only story
Short story, Fiction
Mirror Image.
A Short Fiction Story.
“It is eerily quiet,” Sally thought stirring the aromatic smelling curry simmering on the hob. The two naughty little rascals living upstairs usually drive their mom, and the apartment residents, crazy with their abundant bubbling energy. “They must be already asleep,” she whispered thankfully. “I will have a relaxing evening.”
She reeled at the sudden loud, clanking noise from outside shattering the silence. “What was that?” Startled she dropped the wooden spoon onto the floor. Curious, Sally strolled to the kitchen window to have a peek. Looking down at the street she saw that her neighbor reversed his car into a trash can.
“Probably drunk again” she mused shaking her head scanning the dark amber-lit, misty street. “Oh dear!” she exclaimed as Nigel’s car fishtailed towards an amber, shimmering, dimly lit lamp post on take off.
As she started to turn to attend to her simmering curry she caught the fleeting image of a man looking at her through the kitchen window. “How’s that possible? The window is 2 meters above street level,” she thought “Why is the creepy…grey….old…. man staring at me,” she wondered perturbed.
The realization suddenly hit home like a white thundering flash bolt startling her shocked brain freeze. The man’s head was at the same level as hers, looking outwards….. towards the street. “The man must be standing next to me! How did he get into my flat?” Panic rose like a flash flood in her. Frightened she snapped her head leftwards. There was nobody there. She turned back to the window to see a man’s face looking at her.
Weekly Fiction Writing Prompt — Week 9 in “The Storyteller’s Vault.”
