Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Tuesday, 21 July 2015
It happens sometimes, mostly in the evenings or at night. My wife and I take an evening walk, or I walk back after doing some shopping, or after she walks home from her orchestra practise. There is a car parked somewhere, in the parking of this block of flats or another, or on the side of the street. And there is someone in it. Usually just one person, sometimes two. When we can see more than their silhouette in the shadows, they are people we have never seen before (and never see after), just waiting in their car, waiting for what we don't know and it is always a strange time and place to wait for whatever they are waiting. Have anyone of you ever had these types of encounters? Maybe I read too much crime fiction and I know I have a wild imagination at any time, but my imagination is really fired up and set free when I see them: I always find these people highly suspicious, if not downright sinister. I mean, we live in a small, quiet English town. A place where nothing or very little happens. Then again, I know there is crime here, like everywhere else, and sometimes violent crimes too (I might blog more about it one day). So there are these moments when I wonder if I am not witnessing something taken directly from fiction, when a hitman or a criminal of some sort is spying on his future victims. It is like walking by a crime drama about to happen. In any case, because of the circumstances of their sighting, these are truly shady characters.