001 "Paranoia" by Abraxas 2009-02-09
He was not alone and he knew it. He was followed by that nemesis, real or imagined it did not matter. Anyone could have divulged the secret and how could it be denied when the obvious was etched across his face?
He knew somebody was following. Somebody was watching. Looking, perhaps, to unmask his identity. At first it was only that slight impression of antagonism, stirred by paranoia, dismissed as echoes of his past. At last, degree by degree, he realized it was not imagination
Somebody was there - there in the shadows, there in the darkness - there and following
The sun was setting. The sky was brewing into a storm. Night was the home of his antagonist.
Into his building - up and up onto its roof.
The rain was falling.
He fled toward the edge of the roof, slowing, crawling as if fearing his footsteps were revealing his guilt. He stopped and gazed aback. Silhouettes swirled. Crackle of tiles pressed into tiles. The suggestion of motion faraway yet closing.
It was his nemesis, like conscience incarnated, pricking and sticking his heart into confession.
A stillness atop the roof clashed with the storm. The rain intensified minute by minute. Drop after drop, collecting into pools, whiling into drains.
He stood upright, silent - and ready - as he imagined his antagonist stood.
"Strike, already, damn it!" he cursed.
Then, as if answering, a bolt flashed through the sky. It seared the air with its voltage, smoking the roof of a building nearby. For a moment the world was alive with its glow. The shock of it pained his eyes and he turned his face - and yet he swore, at last, he caught a glimpse of the enemy as it retreated.
END