Hagard

A man, who just moments ago was standing at the entrance of a department store amidst the after-work crowd, follows a woman on a whim. He doesn’t know her, only sees her from behind, but as if in a game, he tells himself: If she goes that way, I won’t follow her any further; if she goes in the other direction, I’ll continue playing this game for a little while longer. It doesn’t mean anything, no one gets hurt, and the distance in the crowd is so great that the woman won’t even notice. Rather, it’s a sporting challenge to not lose her in the crowd. What drives him is initially unclear. Is the pursuer simply a bored snob? A madman? A criminal? He seems to be fleeing from something himself. There’s something threatening in the air, something driven. An breathless pull emerges, drawing the reader in as the pursuit continues.