The View from the Street

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction. I wanted to play around with perspective and intentionally wrote this in a more conversational tone. The narrator is a man who has just been released from prison. Although he is more or less well-spoken, he does swear a bit.

You look tired today. Well, I should say more tired than usual. Hell, you always look like you spent all night basking in the glow of your computer’s screen. You don’t look as bad as you did that morning, though. No, that was a stressful night, wasn’t it?

Listen, I knew you were a fucking lunatic, but even that surprised me. It was all so calculated.

You’re pretty strong, despite how small you are. You picked up that body like it was nothing.

I’ll admit the location was perfect. I didn’t know there was such a remote area only a few hours outside the city.

I wonder if you felt me watching you as the car sunk in that lake. You kept glancing over your shoulder, but I don’t know if that was just you being extra cautious.

No, you don’t look as tired as you did the morning after that. Still, I wonder what it is that kept you from sleeping last night. Maybe you got my little gift. I wish I could have been there to see your face when you got home and saw it on the doorstep. I had other things to take care of, though.

Alex was in a mood again. You remember him from school, don’t you? He looks a lot different now. He’s lost a lot of weight, gotten some surgeries. But surgery doesn’t fix a broken head. He’s a mess. You didn’t do anything to help him, you fucker. I don’t know what you put him through after I was put away.

TEN. YEARS.

Ten fuckin’ years of my life wasted all because you got pissed and decided to slip some shit in my bag. You’re the one who started it, anyway. You deserved worse than a broken nose.

So, because of you, I wasn’t able to reign him in. You’re a goddamn asshole.

He doesn’t talk about that time at all. It’s as if anything prior to his senior year of college never happened. He always had it rough, but dammit, you didn’t help anything.

Anyway, he’s been helping me since I got out of jail. And I’m there whenever he needs someone to talk him down from the ledge.

Seems like you’ve been doing well. A nice apartment, a roommate who is more devoted to you than a Golden Retriever, this job at this bank. Yeah, you have done rather nicely for yourself, haven’t you?

Well, I hope you are enjoying it now.

I’m glad you’ve been reading my notes. There’s this old woman, Dolores, who lights up anytime I ask her to slip them on your desk. I think she feels like she’s helping a budding young romance. She always tells me how handsome I am, “Like a Roman statue!” And asks if we’ve met in person yet.

No, no. Not yet, Dolores. Not yet.

It’s so convenient how your teller station is right in the center. It’s the perfect distance from the window, too. I can see you from either side of the building, but you can’t see me.

Did you know that some people call it a teller cage? I thought that was funny. Do you feel caged in? I bet you do. You can’t possibly enjoy counting everyone else’s money all day long.

Oh, I see you’ve gotten my note. I made sure to write it first thing this morning. Bit ballsy of you to read it in front of everyone. You’d think by now you’d learn to read them in the break room, but I gotta admit, I get a certain rush wondering who might be looking at the security cameras and reading over your shoulder.

Not as much as when you blush, though. God, you look so vulnerable. That porcelain skin turns so pink when you’re flustered. You look like a flamingo. All that blood rushed to just below the surface. One tiny prick, and it would all come spilling out.

God, can your eyes get any wider? They look like they’re about to pop out of your head. Two blue marbles ricocheting off one another as they roll to the floor.

Ah, perfect time to take a break. I guess you’ll quit smoking someday. I suppose I’ll join you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to come up to you. I have the perfect spot from afar to watch. There’s this little place down the street with a little patio bar. The waitress there knows me by name, which is nice. She’s a pretty girl. Working through college. She kind of reminds me of my sister a bit. Except she smiles more.

I like to sit and pretend to be using my phone. Instead, I turn the camera on and zoom in. I’ve taken so many videos accidentally this way. Usually, they get deleted. Except for one. There was once that you walked right out of work and stared hard right at me. God, it felt like I’d swallowed fire. I could have sworn you saw me and recognized who I was. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like you were staring forever. And then that dumbass roommate of yours tackled you like he hadn’t seen you in years.

The only disappointing thing about this location is that, even with the zoom, I can’t make out your expressions. I can only imagine how thin your lips are, pinched into an even tighter scowl as you practically bite your cigarette. You always get so angry after you’re scared. There’s no need to be embarrassed about it. Fear is a totally normal reaction.

You’re still the same person you were back then; as if your skeletal structure is made from coiled wires, threatening to burst at the seams at any given moment.

Is that why you wear those tacky rubber bands on your wrists? You’re snapping them now. And I bet you’re counting to ten, too. Gotta keep that anger in check, my friend. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Well, it looks like your break is over now. I hope you’ll be thinking of me while you finish your day. I gotta check in on Alex. Make sure he’s still breathing.

And I’ve got some stuff to do before tonight. There are some things I need to prepare.

Like the note said, “I’ll see you soon.”