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Tags: Stalking

‘You don’t look like your voice,’ he said. This was by the photocopier, next to Learning and Development. Eleanor looked up from her phone. ‘Sorry?’ she said. ‘You don’t look like your voice.’ He looked at her briefly, an awkward smile on his face, and returned his attention to

The afternoon sun hit the terrace at a one hundred and thirty-five-degree angle. The shadow cast on the wall by a figure about halfway through a yoga routine suddenly straightened up and stood motionless, silently observing. The figure continued with its routine, oblivious, until, reaching the floor