THE WATCHER: I spy with my little eye someone is going to die... by Lisa Sell

Author:Lisa Sell [Sell, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Dragon Publishing LTD
Published: 2022-04-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 62

The Watcher

If I believed in fate, I’d swear Sophie came to Harmony House just for me. Her artist’s eye connects with her hand to create an image. When she sketches, I’m enthralled. Creativity’s ability to travel from the brain to paper is a thing of wonder. I do this in reverse. The picture is the beginning and then I decipher the meaning. As I watch Sophie flourishing a pencil across the page, I realise we’re not so different. The camera is my pencil. My mind interprets and claims the images as mine.

My power play with Sophie is made more enticing by her not realising she’s a player. Sophie thinks she is the one doing the watching. Being on the beach makes it even easier to observe her. We all come to the seaside to take in the view.

It’s clear her sketching tries to pierce people’s cores. Similarly, I penetrate the inner lives of Harmony House’s residents. Cameras are paints laid upon my palette, ready to apply to the building’s canvas. Each person is part of a communal masterpiece. Harmony House and Southbourne are the perfect settings for my work.

Location is everything to a watcher. This may not be the coveted Bournemouth, but it’s a bonus. Southbourne has a haven of its own. My eyes aren’t blinkered, though. I know of the nefarious deeds that happen at night. Beach life isn’t the utopia many believe it to be.

Many hanker for retirement by the sea. The tempting pull offering an idyllic future keeps you going in the daily grind. One day living near the seaside will come. For those who’ve lived in seaside towns for years, sea breezes become part of your breathing. You take it for granted. At the beginning of your new life, you’ll regularly visit the beach. Before you know it, months have passed. The sea’s still there, but its beckoning quietens to a whisper. You came to paradise and forgot it was there. Sand and crashing waves won’t solve your problems. Occasionally, it lures you back with false promises. You remind yourself how lucky you are to be here and vow to make more of it. You soon forget.

This is you. Not me.

When I first arrived here, I never harboured such facile notions. This project could’ve happened anywhere. The shift from the city to the sea revived me somewhat. That’s true. The lure of a new mission was more of an elixir than the sun emerging from the sea’s horizon could ever be.

I admire the power the landscape has upon the swarming mosquito tourists. They are as predictable as they are prevalent. People believe they’re individuals. They’re wrong. Every single one of you reverts to a type. I can tell what a person likes to eat, drive, and wear within minutes of seeing them.

I understand you, Sophie. You have anxiety, but don’t let it define you. You miss Ben intensely, and Emma’s your constant. Purple-streaked hair and an eclectic wardrobe make you stand out while harbouring introvert tendencies.

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