For weeks Henry had had the feeling that he was not alone. Whenever he was standing in his bath room, wet and naked, he couldn’t help but sensing two cold eyes glaring at him. When he turned around or when he left the room there always seemed to be a warm air draught following him. If he placed a pencil on a certain spot on his desk, the pencil stayed there, but it’s position was somehow shifted later on.
As the days and weeks went by it became more and more evident, that there was someone – following him. Staring at him. Leting him know, that he was being… prepared for something.
We saw Henry, weeks later, in a mall. He was afraid of leaving the crowded space. He was afraid of being alone. When they were closing the doors, the securities had to drag him out. After all, even when all customers had left, there were still some clerks doing their duties…. There were at least some people…
It was the last time we had seen him.