Not in a threatening way — just aware.
One afternoon, while planting white tulips in my yard, I had the strange sensation of being watched. I looked up.
He was standing beside his car, groceries in hand, his cat weaving between his legs.
When our eyes met, he gave an awkward, stiff wave.
“Hi! I’ve been meaning to ask your name,” I called.
“My name? It’s… White,” he replied hesitantly. “Just White.”
Then he disappeared inside.
Later that evening, as I dragged my trash bins back up the driveway, I heard him call my name.
“Anna?”
He stood at the edge of his driveway. His cat sat neatly at his feet.
