A Stalker's Deceit

| Brixton |

Being on the roof brings back so many fucking memories of me and little Bird, it's almost as if I'm being hit with every single one all at once. Gazing upon the darkened city as I smoke a blunt to my face, I dangle my feet over the edge of the roof and watch the people below me with pure fascination. If Trig was here right now, then we'd be dropping globs of spit below, trying to hit the fuckers as they walk by. Yeah, almost forty, and I still act like a fucking child. Loneliness sets in the longer I'm up here, and I know for a fact that it's because little bird isn't here. If she were, I'd be watching her from up here, but the view into her window is empty.

It's been almost a full week since I was at her apartment last, jacking off in her bathroom, and leaving her stuff sticky with my come. I chuckle at the thought and take another hit. My texts have all gone unanswered and my calls have been rejected, and I'm slowly beginning to wonder if the plan I have to get her back