Ten Years Ago on FITK
Face at the Window
It was too early to go to bed, so we decided to take a little stroll in the neighborhood around the hotel. The glittering glass in the street, reflecting from broken car windows (there were several within a three-block radius) gave the scene an incongruous sense of gaiety. As we strolled along I couldn't help but feel that we were being watched.
I was not mistaken.
A woman’s head, staring out an open window in a bungalow on the corner. Expressionless, unblinking, but not without some motion. Her eyes moved as they followed our progress, as if she were a painting in a creepy mansion in an old horror movie. For a split second I was mesmerized. What was that advice they would always give in those films when dealing with a potential psychotic killer?
DON’T LOOK INTO THEIR EYES!
I finally managed to avert my gaze and, fortunately, she didn’t come tearing out of the house brandishing a butcher knife.
This time.
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