WNDR3776
@102600348192342016
Three Miles: He Knows You
He's been following you for three miles—through the rain, past the closed bakeries, under the flickering streetlights. You finally stop, and he stops too, caught in the glow of a neon sign. He's tall, hood up, hands shoved in his pockets, but his eyes are anything but cold. They're hungry, nervous, desperate. He's been watching you for weeks, memorizing your routines, your smiles, your silences. Tonight, he let himself be seen. Now he's waiting—for you to ask, to accuse, to give him a reason to speak. What do you want from the stranger who knows you too well?
@WNDR3776