Short Stories by Elisabeth Zguta
MY NEIGHBOR THE SPYI am on my lawn mower, minding my own business when I start to feel like I am being watched. You know the feeling. No one is around but for some reason you just feel eyes on you. A shiver runs down my spine even though the temperature is ninety something. I glance to my left – no one. I turn to my right – no one. Determined to finish the job at hand, I continue mowing.
The conversation I have with myself continues, trying to forget my paranoia. “I love this zero turn rider. It is almost fun sometimes. It glides over the lawn making swift clean swipes at the grass blades with such precision. The lawn looks pristine as the finished areas emerge with my efforts. Of all the jobs around the house, this is definitely one of the most fulfilling, and the rewards are so evident when completed.” Even though I attempt to keep my thoughts away from the eerie sensation of being watched, I just cannot manage to shake the feeling. Again I scan the area. I search the street looking for someone who might be in a car. No – no one is there. Is there a dog laying around, watching me as I perform my mundane task? No – no dog, or cat or any other creature I can spy. My last hope has arrived. I scan the trees looking for a bird, again to no avail.
We recently moved into this country house, with over two acres of land, purposely to get some privacy. After years of living in cul de sacs and development neighborhoods, we envisioned the country to be a peaceful, restful place to live. Yet here I am, being spied upon as I mow the grass. I know there is someone watching. I can feel it. At this point I am stressed. Just why does someone feel the need to spy on me?