42
The cold, damp brickwork felt reassuringly comforting against his back as he pulled the sleeping bag up over his legs. The sun was starting to disappear over the tops of the oak trees and it would be starting to get cold.
The ducks quacked merrily on the lake and he imagined they were quite happy with him being there. They always had been.
He’d told himself that he’d only be here for a couple more days. That was probably all he needed, and then he’d have to head out to buy more supplies. The food he’d crammed into his rucksack would only be enough to last him a little while, but he’d been sparing with it so it would last longer. After all, he wasn’t exerting any energy out here. Just sitting, watching, thinking.
He knew the way he felt about things wasn’t normal, but most of the tim
