Anders waits outside the Burdome Building in the bright moonlight. The wind is sweet and smooth now. All the dark clouds from the afternoon storm have scattered and disappeared.
Anders likes a full moon. He can feel the liquids inside his body welling up. His blood swishes around and he hears a pulsing in his ears.
He stands behind the recycling can by the front door, leaning against the brick building and waiting patiently for the woman to come out. Joe went off to do rounds. Before he left, Joe said to meet him later, over at the gym, and Anders said okay, he would be there. But first he wants to follow the woman when she walks back to her own building. Then he wants to sit on his favorite bench in the quad to stare at her window until her light comes on.
After that, Anders will go to the gym and hang out with the guys. Hours later, when he comes back to the bench in the quad, the light in the woman’s window will be off.
In general, Anders knows he is not good with time. Time bends and wobbles, stretching itself out and falling back on itself. Time is not to be trusted, Anders thinks. That’s why he likes his routines. His dull, comforting routines.
But things are changing. He’s changing.
Anders talks quietly to himself. He tells himself everything will be okay if he doesn’t go into the woman’s building. He cannot follow her to her place and wait until she has gone inside and then force open the front door to her building and go inside and go up the stairs to her door and force that one open and go into her room and stare at her close up. Like he wants to do. No, he cannot do this. No, Anders tells himself over and over, I will not do this.
But he really wants to do this.
The fluid inside Ander’s head throbs and the liquid from his brain begins to drip from his nose and eyes. Is he crying? Anders is not sure. All he knows is how much he wants to touch the woman’s long blonde hair and maybe her skirt, the skirt that flies up in the wind. That’s all. Just touch her hair and her skirt.
But Anders knows this is not all he wants to do.
Anders wants to do is touch what he’s not supposed to touch. He wants to touch because he wants to know. To know what it feels like to be soft and gentle and flowerlike and blonde and wet in the rain and under a skirt that changes color because it gets wet and it flies up in the wind and it comes off. It comes off and becomes something else because it is no longer there. He wants to touch what can change so he can change too.
The moon pulls at the blood rushing around inside Anders and the water from his head drips out a little at a time until he feels emptied and hollow. He waits for the woman to come out of the building.
He waits for whatever will happen next.