Midday, there he is, like clockwork.

She looks out the window as he walks along the alley.

He gets to the junction and stops.

She checks her watch and starts timing him. Thirty seconds exactly, then he starts walking again.

Everyday the same routine.

She has imagined why he acts this way. Has he lost something, or someone? Is he retracing his steps everyday in the vain hope that someone will reappear at that exact spot at that exact time? A lost lover, a glimpsed stranger, a missing child?

She longs to ask him. It’s not through lack of courage that she doesn’t. She can’t get out of the locked room. Her doctor won’t allow it.

When he tells her about the man in the window he only asks if she has been taking her medication. Is she sure he isn’t a figment of her imagination?

She might be crazy, she tells him, but she knows what she sees. She can trust her own eyes.

Can’t she?


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Copyright Enisa

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story or poem in around 150 – 175 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

46 thoughts on “THE MAN IN THE WINDOW

  1. Oh, he could be a ghost. Although, the doctor should at least try to see him. If it’s the same time every day, it would be very easy to verify. But doctors…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This story raises a lot of questions. I like the way how she interprets that the man is searching for something when she is the one actually searching for some rationale. Well written, Iain.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Back when I was a young mother in my twenties a neighbor stopped to ask me if everything was okay because they had not observed me at my usual routine during the school week. Maybe there was no school because of Parent/Teacher conferences. Whatever the reason – that is a long lost memory – what I won’t forget is they had memorized my morning routine from their favorite local park bench – retirees frequent parks a lot in New York. I was so shocked that they knew when I would pass their “post” just about to the minute during my morning routine of taking my daughter to school, then buying groceries, and they knew even knew which mornings I went to the library. I found it a little creepy at the time.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That would be creepy, we all do it to some extent, watching neighbours out the window and commenting on what’s going on. I often wonder if neighbours are watching us and noticing what we’re up to.

      Like

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