Sunday 21 August 2011

CRACK



Max glimpsed his own reflection in a shop window. He felt in his raincoat pocket for his train ticket.
Hey! That guy in the window wasn‘t wearing a raincoat!
And, his reflection had a flower on his lapel. Max checked his own lapel to confirm what he already knew - he wasn’t wearing one. He looked back along the street. It was deserted.
The face of his doppelganger stared into his through the window of the train as it moved away from the platform. Max had always been confident, optimistic, on a continuous burn of achievement, but this frightened him.
When Max left the station at his destination Doppelganger was across the road looking directly at him with a superior, detached stare. He saw his double a number of times over the next few days; in the supermarket - on the golf course - across the street - and each time close enough for Max to see that look, that questioning gaze.
Getting on a bus he looked back as it moved away and there he was, his other self, looking into Max’s eyes. Max had got into the habit of looking around, checking for his stalker, but he hadn’t noticed him; it was as if he’d been standing right behind him all the while.
Max got nervous and phoned in sick. Unable to relax, he paced and kept looking out of the window. His wife Laura nagged him in a concerned way. He was reluctant to confide in her, so after a few days he went back to work.
On the first day back to work doppelganger was there on the station platform. Max watched him. Doppelganger played with the hair behind his right ear, curling his hair around his finger - just as he, Max himself, was in the habit of doing.
On the way home he saw him through the window of the connecting door, sitting in the next carriage. He gave Max a grin this time.
Max took another few days off. He kept in touch with the office by phone and e-mail but he’d lost his zest - all his experience and knowledge deserted him. His colleagues worried, but they rang Laura, instead of Max.
When indoors he peered out of the window and worried about unfamiliar parked cars.
He decided to break out and walked to the station to get a train into town. He stopped occasionally to check up and down the quiet cherry blossomed avenues. He scanned around him at the station - peered onto the platform before he reached the top step.
Waiting for the train he thought about Laura - remembered her quizzical look as if she feared something - how she had hugged him tighter.
He heard the rumble and clatter of the approaching train and moved forward. He heard his own voice behind him, felt a hand on his back and was propelled forward. Twisting as he fell, he saw his own face giving him a disdainful look.
published online at Col Bury's Thrillers Chillers n killers and in Daily Flash Anthology [Pill Hill]




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