Bracelet. Clutch bag. Nails painted. Carrying a drink. Wine. Turned again. Then he became furious with himself because when he finally managed to forc... his eyes open she was gone. Oh for fuck sake. Really?He was compelled to do something. Like him being there, the next thirty or so seconds were compulsory because he understood taking every chance you got. No matter how remote. So he launched himself up from the sofa towards the door carrying the image of her in his head. And let’s not do the. The job of tailing the bus was made tough because part of the bus route was along Cheras Road which is always clogged with traffic. I wished I had a motorcycle. Fortunately I was already familiar with her 'scent' through daily contact and it made a tough job of following her marginally easier. I stopped about fifty metres from where she got off the bus. The night helped to mask my presence.After about fifteen minutes a small frown stitched three vertical creases into her forehead. I watched. More

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