Surveillance

o look at the r

ng slow, steady, endless. One every five seconds.

e only light in the apartment is from the hallway and the occasional fli

mine tea on

dn't o

ago, she muttered under her breath while folding laundry: "I miss that jasmine ble

dn't t

still

head toward the ceiling, toward the red li

Blink. Five

horrifying about your private moments being public without your consent. But this..

ng: the one before she knew she was being watched

ial wood and matte black metal furniture. Clean air. Gentle heat. Nothing creak

built to remove all e

like a dead signal in

athroom. The tiles are warm beneath her

eflection in the

p in a loose bun, no makeup, eyes too dark for comfort. Her body looks smaller than it used to. Not from dietin

s off th

ack to the

. She doesn't open her lapto

the middle of the ro

o TV buzzing. No phone vibr

blinking

ing above the far corner now - discreet, nearly

beneath it

she says softly. Not angry

light

e imagines him - faceless, in some high-rise apartment, maybe sitting

n't know

esn't

talk to her

ameras are in every room except the bathroom - thou

ges. He doesn't make her dress up. Doesn'

t... w

, Eva thinks

ery time the microwave beeped. Every time the wi

t jump. She ju

breathes. The way she holds her body. As if being percei

heal. That starting over again-this time wi

s grown transparent. Her bones exposed.

oors. Draws the curtains.

lects nothing but shadows. Bikes lean against each o

the night. Hol

accidentally: "I th

rst time in twelve d

possible to place. Soft enough to s

u're be

oesn'

t the dark water

inside and closes the b

ng red lig