The time I pushed that guy, helped him escape a personal relationship with a loose trailer. The first time a girl asked me out. Graduation and the parties after. My daughter’s dance with her husband. The parties in college. Every couple of weeks. Behind the guy at the back of the class.
Under the bleachers. The bottom of the deepest pool. The rear-view mirror. A murky river.
The steam from the shower sometimes hid the two yellow eyes. The black in the dimly lit hallway amplified their amber glow.
The two yellow eyes never blinked.
They never turned.
They never faded.
They never burned.
They watched every move, every beat, every drop.
They hid in the darkest corner of the room, waiting for–