Brick Walls

He sat against the brick wall in front of the bookstore on wire road. Silver light bounced off of the windows and gleamed on the sidewalk beneath him.

He went inside.

She was giving prices to some books and drinking coffee. Her red hair fell like a crimson river over a rocky cliff.

He wondered to the back of the store, out of sight. He found a small book of collected poems. Hastily walking back to the front, checking for other customers, he glanced up. She was gone.

He stood at the counter.

A small hello shook him from his panic. She did not know of course, but he still feared the chance. He watched her as he purchased the book. She was pleasant but she seemed tired. It was very close to close.

He left.

He stood in the lot behind the store, hidden by her blue car. He readied himslef.

He waited.

She busted through the back door, second loudest sound he ever heard. She made her way to the trunk to store books. He leapt from the shadows and grabbed her, placing his hand over her mouth.

She screamed.

Her terror was barely audible, he forced her into the trunk and drove her car to the national park he was hiding in. He let her go and hunted her down in the dark.

She died.

Before dusk the gunshot echoed, the bullet passing through her heart.

He buried her, and read a poem from the book he purchased that night.