Leap
I didn’t mean to. I really, truly didn’t. There I was, on the other side, watching her. Nothing new about it. There’s something in the way she walks that grabs me by the heart and pulls me towards her. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stalker. We just happen to live on the same street and I see her a few times a week.
You know, I wanted to ask her out at first, but found out that she was seeing someone. So, I did the right thing and kept quiet. Although I do allow myself the pleasure of following her around for a few minutes, if I encounter her. Like I said, it happens often.
Yesterday, by some weird twist of fate, she visited my workplace. I couldn’t believe it. The place is generally empty on weekends, except for me and my colleagues. Oh, I forgot to mention, I work for a company that provides janitorial services for many buildings in this area. It’s hard work, but I don’t have to deal with too many people and the pay’s enough for me.
So, there she was, with her camera, taking pictures of the building. She even took one of me wiping the glass. She was very sweet too; thanked me for the photo, even offered to pay for me to pose in a different way; but I hate photos of myself, so I had to refuse. Also, I couldn’t bear to be too near her — can you imagine what it feels like to be so attracted to someone you can’t ask out? I didn’t want to inadvertently say something I shouldn’t, so I walked away; to another floor, actually.
Sometimes later, I saw her again, taking photos of the staircase. She was leaning forward, stomach pressed against the banister, on tiptoes, extending her already long legs into a beautiful angle.
I couldn’t help myself anymore. I walked towards her, thinking to introduce myself; at least talk to her a little more.
As I walked towards her, all I could see were those gorgeous legs. The yoga pants she was wearing hugged every curve. I could see my hands caressing them, moving down the curves of her calf, to the incline of her thigh up to the perfectly rounded orbs of her buttocks in one great swoop.
Her scream pierced through my fantasy and frightened, I jumped. I saw my right hand let go of her ankle, my left hand push against her buttock.
It had been no fantasy.
She fell, down twenty-odd stories, almost as if she’d leapt. I hoped you’d think she leapt of her own accord, but then, I’d forgotten about the CCTVs.
I didn’t mean to kill her or touch her or do anything to her. I swear. I’m no criminal, after all. I was fantasising, that’s all; it was simply a fantasy which…which took over me. I didn’t mean to kill her, I didn’t. I’m a good guy, trust me, please, please.
© Indira Reddy 2020
