He hung around for hours, watching the door for of Ghalia. He bought a cup of tea from the nearest café. It burnt his hands through the polystyrene cup so he placed it on the ground to cool down. He forgot about it as he watched the market shut down for the day. The traders drove off one by one leaving the skeletons of their stalls lining the street, dust and rubbish billowing up in their wake. Dean was left alone as the dead street shops slowly brought down their metal shutters one by one. He paced up and down, with an eye always focused on his target. He found the cold tea left and kicked it in anger. The cup split apart on impact and the liquid ran he’d through the holes in his trainers, soaking his socks to the skin. He swore and spat and banged his heel against the curb. He thinking anymore. He was consumed by wasn’t her. wait all night if he had to. Ghalia was everything. Not long after the last He’d shop had turned off their neon signs, the side door opened. Dean froze and the panic, the fear and the loss held tight in his chest. The black figure was covered entirely from head to foot, but Dean had memorised those curves. He knew before she’d turned around from locking the door. Her eyes glanced up and down the street before coming to rest on found her. Dean’s. He’d She stares at me. I tell if happy to see me or angry. I feel the muscles in can’t she’s my own face. tense. I try and relax them but I Because I am angry, They’re can’t. why. Maybe she can sense that. too fucking smart. going to that’s Ghalia’s She’s say something to make me look stupid and feel small. I let her. I stare back. can’t We move for hours. stare fighting. I even blink. Ghalia don’t Like we’re don’t shakes her head and walks towards me. She stands about a metre away and puts her head to one side. I move. I want to be in control. I want to tell her angry don’t I’m
He hung around for hours, watching the door for of Ghalia. He bought a cup of tea from the nearest café. It burnt his hands through the polystyrene cup so he placed it on the ground to cool down. He forgot about it as he watched the market shut down for the day. The traders drove off one by one leaving the skeletons of their stalls lining the street, dust and rubbish billowing up in their wake. Dean was left alone as the dead street shops slowly brought down their metal shutters one by one. He paced up and down, with an eye always focused on his target. He found the cold tea he’d left and kicked it in anger. The cup split apart on impact and the liquid ran through the holes in his trainers, soaking his socks to the skin. He swore and spat and banged his heel against the curb. He wasn’t thinking anymore. He was consumed by her. He’d wait all night if he had to. Ghalia was everything. Not long after the last shop had turned off their neon signs, the side door opened. Dean froze and the panic, the fear and the loss held tight in his chest. The black figure was covered entirely from head to foot, but Dean had memorised those curves. He knew before she’d turned around from locking the door. Her eyes glanced up and down the street before coming to rest on Dean’s. He’d found her. She stares at me. I can’t tell if she’s happy to see me or angry. I feel the muscles in my own face. They’re tense. I try and relax them but I can’t. Because I am angry, that’s why. Maybe she can sense that. Ghalia’s too fucking smart. She’s going to say something to make me look stupid and feel small. I can’t let her. I stare back. We don’t move for hours. Like we’re stare fighting. I don’t even blink. Ghalia shakes her head and walks towards me. She stands about a metre away and puts her head to one side. I don’t move. I want to be in control. I want to tell her I’m angry