Page 31 of Eyes Like Angel

Aaron pointed. Marceline and I examined an elaborated golden embroidered“W”decorated across her chest.

“Oh yeah, that! I kept seeing that, too!” Marceline’s shoulders shrugged. “Who knows? The other nuns I’ve seen don’t have that on their chest except for her.”

“Her? You don’t know her name?”

“I’ve seenhera few times, I even complimented on her necklace before I walk off,” she said apologetically.

My shoulders sank at her response, hoping I could greet the young nun in a proper fashion.

“Ah, you suck,” I grunted, back slouching.

“How long do the nuns have to explore the town just to pass out flyers and a spread of word?” Aaron got curious at their daily lives.

Marceline hummed. “Sometimes it takes up until the evening, like around six or seven,” Marceline answered him, finishing his garlic fries.

“Hey! You told me earlier that you don’t want fries,” Aaron whined, trying to slap her hand, but she hauled it aside from his touch.

“I want them now,” she snapped, warning him off from her glare.

Since their information has sunken in, it has been given me the opportunity to meet the young nun and get her name, once and for all, without second guessing.

***

Chilled by the motorcycle, bringing my to-go lunch in my mouth, munching on a crusted bun, munching other parts of a soaked and tender and oily burger in hand, other held a chilled soda I bought separately from a convenient store, drinking on a striped straw, eyeing the scenery of a glowing afternoon.

Checking the time, it’s already 5 P.M.

Children already headed back inside their homes, probably having delicious snacks and cool, sweet drink to slurp or ice cream to melt in their hands and watch cool TV shows, or how Mothers tend to them, sanitized their scratched knees and sealed the wound with first-aid kit, bandaging wounds withBand-Aidsand a loving kiss on the elbow.

As agreeable and genuine as it was, having a burger and soda to fill me up since the town’s diner, I wasn’t in a mood to stay indoors to eat, not hopping into my friend’s conversations,their gossips and secrets to share out in the open, or their open banter, nor do I wish to see others. Suffocating as it is as it was last night—I killed several people. Normally, I’d join, but these days were tiresome and primitive, but the Fort Heaven locals were rushing like maniacs, I loved every minute each time I took steps, for a languid and chilled posture, and tucked hands in my jean pockets, a sound of giggle was close to sound out coming on my lips.

Lifting the cold burger in my mouth, in the corner of my eye, a white veil fluttered and up in the air, silky and smooth as the girl from earlier passed me, distributing the flyers.

Giving a spared look at her direction, her form deteriorated in exhaustion. She has been wandering in Fort Heaven for hours without rest.

Forgetting the juicy burger in my hand, I tucked the leftovers in.

I decided to stalk her.

Stalking wouldn’t hurt anyone as long as I’m far, remaining unseen, without raising questions and suspicions. I’ve stalked before, numerous times, actually but only to a certain extent where I need to find out their weakness or the gossip where I find useful.

In her listless walk, she found no people to give out the flyers to, and spotted the blue flowers blooming at the park in the Solomon Street.

Crouching down to a lower level, she sniffed the blue orchids by the sidewalk. Standing far, I’ve debated whether I should go for it. If I go, she’ll run; she’ll be scared. If I stayed here, she won’t know me, won’t know my name. I’ll just be another random boy with an unknown name, and our lives will diverge.

So I stepped in, walking to the direction she headed and stood behind from her, and crouched down beside at her level.Under the glowing afternoon, it softened her features, her eyes closed as she smelled the flowery aroma, under the glowing afternoon, the flowers made her happy, in content.

My lips quirked to a soft tug, admiring her listless and idle form, admiring and taking it all in, appreciating the small things in life.

By the time she’s done, she stood up and bumped into me by accident and gasped at my heightened form.

She gave another flyer to me, but I already have the original copy.

“I hope you’re having a good day today,” I started.

She nodded meekly. Then she went over to the neighborhood, finding another people to give out flyers, but I kept following her.

“Do you need help, sir?” she asked, a bit louder in comparison to the church in Thanksgiving.