Gemotions

He walked the dog, avoiding eye contact with the gleaming, black limousine parked in front of Mr. Blackwood’s house. The man had always seemed a bit off, but now the pieces were falling into place. A shiver ran down his spine.

His pace quickened, the dog straining at the leash. He felt a constant prickling sensation on his skin, a sense of being watched.

He looked around. The neighborhood, once a picture of suburban normalcy, now felt like a gilded cage. He quickened his pace, the dog's bark echoing in the sudden quiet of the street.