@mindsever hit like for a one-para starter!
Not for a minute’s darkening time did Newton miss it. Knew who it was. Wasn’t letting him know. Wasn’t letting him know he’d spotted him at all. Names, yes, he didn’t know, but the click and the buzz from the dullest of shadows shouldn’t be expected not to come to his notice. Newton did, after all, work with cameras. It was a dying day now, and the walk hurt, from the stupid lump of greed behind him back to the shelter of the house. Disgusted him sometimes that he’d built up that kind of wealth. His hair stuck to his face, all the suspicion going around. Maybe that man had been chasing after someone else? Misused that wealth too, hadn’t he. All the money he’d tossed at shining up that building. And on the stairs, trailing up to his supposed home, he turned. He said nothing. His grip on that banister, that was important. He mustn’t shiver and he mustn’t be violent. Newton smiled. He only smiled, and then, he took a photograph of his own. There. Fuck off. He wished he could say “fuck off”. Documentation must have frightened this stalking maniac enough, and Newton pulled his hat down to cover his eyes.
