The man in the blue sedan’s followed me for forty-five minutes now.
I noticed him halfway home, and realized it was me he was following three blocks from my apartment.
I drove past the parking garage. He can’t know where I live.
I know that much.
What I don’t know is who he is, why he’s following, or why he’s staring so intensely at me as he drives. I’m terrified to ask.
I’m just gonna sit here, hands white knuckled on the wheel, eyes forward, and drive. I’ll drive until I figure out what the fuck I’m going to do.
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