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Sam
“Nothing,” mumbled Sam. “Absolutely nothing.”
He’d spent the better part of his morning looking for any information on Jacob Cutter and he had come up empty. No arrests or complaints filed against him. Not even a parking ticket or, as far as he could tell, late fees at the public library. He paid his bills, paid his taxes and never got into trouble. Average height, average build, average looks – he was too good to be true and it gave Sam a knot in his stomach. He couldn’t rest until he had figured this guy out.
Sam drove back down to the neighbourhood, hoping to put a tail on him as he left work. He pulled out his camera and took a few reference shots. He watched him get on the bus and ride it all the way home. Sam wondered what exciting plans this guy had in store for a Friday night. Bowling, maybe? Sitting in front of the television drinking himself into a stupor? Whatever it was, Sam was sure it was going to be dull.
He parked in front of Cutter’s apartment and waited. Confident he had a while before anything would happen he made his way to the diner across the street. It was clean enough that he felt he could get something to eat here and not be poisoned. He ordered a meatball sub to go. Taking his order he went back to his car and waited. Once or twice he thought he saw Cutter looking out the window but he was sure that he could not be spotted where he was.
After about an hour a freshly showered and dressed Cutter came out of the block and headed towards the diner. But instead of going in he turned at the last minute and went down the sidewalk towards a young woman with short black hair. Sam pulled out his camera and took a few more shots. Maybe she’s got something to do with all this.
Crazed recluse and sociophobe who has taken up writing after failing at everything else. Send pizza.
Verbatim Gibberish 