The visitor

Untitled Part 1

You open the front door, having come waddling from the living room where you spotted your friends growing from as they venture closer toward your house. Thank distance is short but you have enough time to open the door and watch them approach the rest of the way.

They are within earshot and so you call out to them, raving and shouting their name with a wave, you're started as a stranger some feet across the road turns and addresses the error you've made, correcting you and speaking their own name as you turn your concentration to them, throwing a dismissive hand up and gesturing as well as explaining you're speaking to the person behind them, around 30 feet back.

The stranger turns to look in the indicated direction...and again they correct you.

"What you on about? There's nobody behind me"

You cock a brow and twist your upper body to peer over the short fence, following the humanoid shadow as it dissipates into the cold autumn gust that sweeps the Golden leaves into a storm drain.

The stranger offers you a curious yet concerned stare and steadily hurries back to the task of walking home, shrugging their backpack higher atop their shoulder as they frequently differ between looking back at you and then on the path ahead.

You stand there, listening to the train as it reaches the station across the street for a second time, and hear your friends delightfully drunken hollers as they appear from the line of houses further down the road.

You stand there, motionless as their shadow lacking form passes a streetlight.

"What sort of Peter Pan bullshit is this?"

End...