The Disappearing Act

On the way home from the grocery store, I noticed the man was following me.  He had been in the store and I had noticed him several times because he had been so close I had almost bumped into him.  It was a weird kind of interaction because he never said anything.  He never smiled, just stopped short so we wouldn’t run into each other and then would turn the other way.  I usually walked to the store since it was so close, but this was the first time I had been upset about walking.  I began to walk faster as he got closer.   

“If you don’t stop following me, I’m going to call the police,” I said in a firm voice.  All the man did was smile.  I got my phone out of my purse and started dialing 911 as I backed up toward my house. Once I thought he wasn’t going to follow me, I turned and ran to my house.  As soon as I got inside, I locked all the doors and watched out the front window, certain that he had not had the chance to follow me.  But there he was, standing on my driveway.  I dialed 911 again as I watched him turn around and head back toward the store. 

I got the dispatcher on the phone and followed the man who had just followed me.  As I described the man to the dispatcher, I followed him until he disappeared right in front of me. 


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