The Intruder

He had perfected the art of spying on her. He'd been watching her for a few days now, in fact. He knew that every night, without fail, she would bunker up in her office behind the house. He didn't know exactly what kind of work she was doing, or why she was so passionate about it, but clearly it was important to her. It didn't matter that much to him, he just wanted to watch her. He became obsessed with watching her. Slowly creeping up to her window. Very slowly. So slowly in fact that a few hours would go by before he could catch that first glimpse of her.