Something freakishly heart-stopping just happened. It’s late at night and I’m in my room doing readings for tomorrow.
I start to hear loud talking right outside, which isn’t an uncommon thing because my room is probably the ‘crossroads’ of all heavy human traffic in East Quad.
It was a woman’s voice, and though her words were unintelligible, it almost sounded lyrical and certainly a monologue. Curious, I decided to peep through the door-hole.
In all that distorted and magnified horror, I saw her face right in front of the hole, her eyes looking straight at me. I almost fell backwards to the floor at the hideous sight. And all this time she was still carrying out her little one-minute-of-fame.
Well she had a cellphone to her ear, so perhaps I’m too worried for my safety. Has the stalker become the stalked?
EDIT: After thinking about it, she might have been reading my fiction-inspired description of myself (every door has a novel synposis pasted with names altered to the owners of the room – Mine is “Cowboy Justice, haha!)