21:30

The first chapter of (hopefully) many. It's fairly short, basically an introduction to the character and the world, I hope you enjoy :)

He checked his watch. 9:30. He'd been following her for around 4 hours now. He looked back up, swept the hair out of his face and saw the brunette in the same scarred plastic seat as before. She stared through the window, in awe of the city swinging by, the skyscrapers around her and the streets below. Her gaze flitted between people and cars, following shapes and colours just for a second before another monolith of steel and glass blocked her view and introduced them to the next street. He liked this one. He liked how her eyes seemed too big for her face, too full, fit to burst. She had a child's eyes, he decided. They were eager, restless, everything was worth looking at through eyes like hers. The monorail cars were lined with corrugated steel, worn from a shine to a dull glow by years of handprints and stickers and scratches. The streetlights would blare in from the blackness outside, caught in a metal prism, they'd rebound off of the hardened walls and shatter across the hand rails and seats and people, and her. Tungsten yellow and neon blue spilled over her pale skin, dousing her in colour, illuminating her in an illuminated world. The rail was quiet tonight. There were only two other people in the car, a man and a woman. He looked tired and she looked a little angry. He didn't care about them.

She's come from work, a long shift maybe, she's not tired yet though. She's gotta live with someone, how couldn't she? She's beautiful, her clothes are expensive, she's not a loner. She can't be that old, I guess she's doing well for herself. She doesn't look like she's from the Lowlands, people from money don't work long shifts. She's got herself here-

His amateur deductions were cut short by a polite electronic buzz followed by a lazy voice “next stop, Frankson Street, that's Frankson Street, next stop.” They heard the man click down the receiver and the hum of the train's engines grew softer as they slid to a stop. The brunette picked up her handbag from the seat next to her and got up. She stood by the doors until they opened and she swept out. Nobody came in. He waited a minute before another polite buzz told him the doors were about to close, his cue to leap up and stride across the carriage, his legs were so long he could get there before the buzz had stopped. The took the step down from the rail to the platform as the doors closed behind him. As casually as he could, he scanned left to right looking for her. She had passed through the barrier and was already making her way down the stairs to street level. Her walk was unnaturally smooth, her hair snaking and coiling in the cold air behind her.

Maybe that's just what I want her to look like.

He thought that a lot. What if the brunette wasn't as beautiful as he saw? What if it was just his imagination? Some idealised woman sitting in his subconscious. He was already on the narrow metal stairs on his way to the street with her. The smog was pretty thin in this part of the city, there wasn't so much traffic here, especially not at night. There were no bars or clubs, it was all red brick apartment buildings latticed with fire escapes, sat on top of beauty salons and convenience stores. Nothing that was still open. The new city was still visible from here. The glass towers were slowly spreading out, leaking into the domestic streets and tearing them into the sky. He could see the glow in the distance, neon green spilling through the light mist. She was walking in that direction, her silhouette sliced through the green. He followed at what felt like a safe distance.

It was uncommon for people to notice him, if they did it was either bad luck or his own negligence. Every now and then he'd day-dream for too long and stray too close or make to much noise. Once or twice he'd walked straight past them when he was lost in his own head, but when he tried he could walk in near silence. He'd learned the value of hiding a long time ago so by now he could walk for miles without a single person even noticing him. On the odd occasion when they would happen to turn and catch a glimpse of him they tended to quicken their pace. He didn't have a comforting look. A tall, lanky, thin shape with drooping black hair almost covering his face, some people found that undesirable. But he never meant any harm. He objected to the term 'stalking'. He liked to call what he did 'piggybacking'. He enjoyed following someone else's footsteps, moving in their shadow, maybe because it gave him a break from his own. The brunette didn't turn. He managed to stay well back.

His attention was caught by an eager electronic whirr hurtling overhead. He looked up and saw another train sliding along the monorail, 30 feet above him. In the night it looked like a beam of white light shooting over the street. His eyes followed the sight until it was gone. When he looked back ahead the brunette was gone. He kicked off of the tarmac and built into a run, craning his neck into windows and doors and alleys, looking for her. On one of the thin glass doors of an apartment building he stumbled to a halt. He just saw her legs moving up a flight of stairs and out of his sight. Kage stood there for while. He scanned the windows, waiting for a sign of life. After a couple of minutes a new light flicked on. He figured it was her, home and safe. He smiled to himself, reached out and placed his hand on the bricks in front of him, then turned back and headed for home.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading! Leave any comment you like, any criticism or remarks or thoughts or feelings are hugely hugely helpful and appreciated, thanks again!

Reviews

[Bryan Webb]

I enjoyed this piece, but the chapter does feel a little short. It could use a little more detail in some sections to bring in just a bit more length, though the detail that is there helps paint your world.
I liked how your character feels like a stalker, but then finding out he refers to it as "Piggybacking" so he can escape his own life for a little while really helps bring more information about him. On top of how we never know his name, get only a brief look at his build and how no one really ever notices him really makes me feel for him and how he must feel even smaller than most would in such a large city.
There is a line in the second to last paragraph that I found confusing; "He liked to call what he did 'piggybacking'." I feel this sentence should be, "He liked to it 'piggybacking'. It felt less creepy."
All and all though, good work. I look forward to reading more.