Stalker. Hazel Edwards

me. No, that would spoil the feeling… that I know her whereabouts her life is open to me, but she doesn’t even know I am here. I’m like a golden circle around her life.

      I switch on. Sometimes I get lucky. The station plays a promo and I hear a snatch of her voice. ‘Hi, this is Lily’ has become so familiar. She says it just for me. I tape and replay, often. I’ve worn out the first tape.

      When I wake up in the morning, I think about the snatch of her voice. I replay it in my mind. Ahead, the day seems grey unless I have planned to connect with Lily in some way. Long hours until she is on air again. Will I see her earlier? Waiting near her house is cheating. There has to be a risk. A gamble. Action soothes me. That’s why I went through the car-wash four times today. My car needs to be clean inside and out. It always is. Even the smell must be clean.

      Adjusting the rear-vision mirror, I can just see the driveway beside the studio. A car noses out. Is it hers? No. Shit! The mirror gives a reverse picture. I’m checking the wrong place. There’s a 7-11 place alongside. That’s a worry. Too many cars coming out of there. Not her. Why not?

      I drive and drive. Every time I see a yellow car, I feel her in my gut. Right model. Right colour. Wrong number plate. If I just see her today, I won’t do anything else. That will be enough. Just to know that she is nearby. The sense of her doing ordinary things and not knowing that my watching makes all her actions special. Maybe she’ll even wear that perfume I smelled in her bathroom.

      She’s easy to track. I know when she’s on at the studio or at uni. That’s when her home can be visited, like last Friday.