Connor kissed his daughter goodnight, and followed his wife to the doorway of their child’s bedroom. He stood by the light switch for a moment, letting her snuggle in.

“Goodnight sweetie.” They said, and he flicked off the light.

“Night Mommy. Night Daddy.” She said, and they walked away, leaving the door cracked.

Connor followed his wife down the hall. When she turned to the bedroom, he brushed past her to the living room.

“You’re not coming to bed?” She asked, and he scratched his head.

“I’m just gonna step outside really quick. Get some air.” He said, already pulling on his coat.

“I thought you were quitting.” She said, her scowl harsher than her words.

“I know. I know. I’m working on it. Just real quick before I lock up.” He said shamefully. She eyed him for a moment, and waved him on.

Connor pulled open the slider to the balcony, shivering against the outside air before shutting it. This was winter’s second coming in February, or third or fourth it seemed.

Shrugging against the wind, Connor got out a smoke and lit it. His drag and exhale were slow, hoping to lift the weight that seemed to be bogging him down. Work. Bills. Car trouble. Stress in every imaginable form was trying a balancing act on his shoulders. He just wanted a minute of peace.

The snow was coming down. Connor looked at the flakes dancing around through the cherry’s glow. Despite the harsh temperature, it comforted him. He stopped mid drag and coughed, noticing something in the whiteout across the road.

There was a man across the street, and he was watching him.

Connor rubbed his eyes and looked again. He had moved a little closer, like one leaping step.

Squinting, Connor waved at him as he tried to make out the details. People walked up and down this road all the time, but they never just stopped. He was just standing there, mouth slightly open.

Connor looked around in the heavy snow, but he was the only one on the balconies. He looked back and jumped. The man had crossed the street, head still angled up. Not moving at all.

“Can I help you?” He shouted down. No response.

What the fuck, he thought, turning to look inside. The living room was empty, his wife and child were still in their rooms.

He turned back, hoping it was just his imagination.

The man was in the front yard, same frozen look of expectation.

“I said, can I help you?” Connor yelled. He dug out his phone to call the police. After dialing the digits, he checked on the stalker.

The man was outside the apartment door now, hand on the knob, looking straight up. Smiling.

He looked just like him. Before Connor could speak, the man winked.

Connor turned, reaching for the door. Pounding steps raced up the hallway stairs.

The slider was frozen shut.

Through the glass, he saw the front door open.