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There is a woman who lives across the way from me and her name is Charlotte Dark.

I think that during the time I have known of her existence I have become so enamoured by her that I can no longer explain my feelings.

She has become an obsession in my life to the point that I can think of very little else.

Everything about her captivates me, from her small plump frame to the mane of red hair that flows in curls down her back like a waterfall of lava, stopping just short of her shoulders. Her eyes, almost hidden by round and unflattering glasses, shine green as if lit from within and highlighted by a skin that is dark from an ethnic background and flawless in its complexion.

I am sure I am seeing her through eyes that are blinded by emotion, but she is my world and the reason for my day. From where I sit I can see the shadowy movement behind her bathroom window as she prepares to shower. Although the window is frosted and allows only a limited view it still fires the desire and emotion that would be seen by others as inappropriate. Some might judge me as a mere stalker, or some sort of pervert. But my actions are pure for quite simply – I love her

The sad and terrible thing is that Charlotte Dark has no idea that I exist.


As little as three months ago I was in a very different place and it was a world that Ms. Dark did not figure. Maybe if she had then I would not have become what I am now - crippled with nothing further to do other than stare out of a cold window, longing for a new future. At this earlier time in my life I was known to be very well connected with some of the major players in the city, as my boss was one of the biggest, and commanded respect and fear from some of the highest and lowest men in the business world. I was responsible for some of the most important monetary transactions ever to take place in either Wall Street, London or Japan, and hid a lot of the ‘free floating funds’ from the eyes of those that would seek to take advantage of my bosses good nature.

Not that he had one.

I very rarely left his side in those days, which meant that I bore witness to many of his less scrupulous activities. Many was the time that people would ‘disappear’ after a brief meeting that would involve other members of the room being asked to leave.

But never me.

I was always with him.

Never judgmental, and always impartial.

As I held such an important roll I was constantly updated on things of importance and had full access to staff profiles and financial records of this and other firms. I was always aware that, if I were ever compromised in anyway, I would be terminated from his employment immediately, and most probably from this existence with equal speed. This was of no matter to me as I was fully aware that this was an expected condition of my position within the company.

When we were alone the boss and I would often play chess, and although his game left much to the imagination I felt no need to insult his intellect by letting him win.

I would beat him easily as his tactical analysis was weak and he had no talent for planning for future possibilities, as a result of this he was sometimes reckless in his actions and foolhardy in his choice of company. As this lifestyle dictated I would occasionally help him ‘hook up’ with a lot of different women, some of whom would also attempt to ‘play’ with me. This would happen when the boss was out of the room as, having finished with them; he would take himself off to the shower in order to wash the grime of his game playing from his fat and bloated body leaving me alone with these ladies of ‘dubious morals’.

It was around this time that I must have contracted the virus that left me in the housebound condition that I find myself in now, for it took only once for the protection that I always carried with me not to work.

The effects of this infection soon became evident.

My memory started to fail me and I began to lose, or move things around, only to forget where they were when needed. I got slower and slower and became more and more unreliable, until one day I arrived at work only to find that the boss had replaced me. It was only supposed to be a temporary measure until I was able to function again but the realization that I was so easily replaced caused me to have a breakdown, so much so that on the way back home I lost control completely and had a major crash. After that I was asked to depart what little information I could remember over to my successor and with that was cast out like some unwanted gift, left at home alone with nothing else to do but stare out of the window and wile away the days.

Slowly dying.


The boss visits me sometimes and talks of getting an expert to look at me and to possibly rid me of this condition, but it comes to nothing. He stills plays chess with me, but these days he beats me within a dozen moves. I think the reason he keeps me around is because he thinks that maybe I still know things that could compromise his position, so I guess he feels it’s safer to keep me close to him.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer maybe? – Who knows?


It was at this time that I first noticed Charlotte.

My limited attention span that had caused me to fall sleep for the sixth time that day had been sparked into life at the sound of her high-heeled shoes on the stone pathway.

She had just returned from work that evening and had run from her parked car to the front door of her home to avoid the rain. As she stood there I marvelled at how Mother Nature could have created such beauty and such perfection in a woman, and as her rain soaked clothes clung to her body I felt something inside me jump as if sparking an emotion within me that I was unaware of, bringing to life a heart that I never knew existed.

It sounds silly, (even as I say it now) but she gives me hope during these last days, as I find myself counting the hours and minutes until I see her again. Just a glimpse of her as she leaves the house for work, or the shadows behind the frosted glass of her bathroom is enough to feed my empty soul until the time comes when it cannot be refilled again.


So as this virus rips what is left of me to pieces infecting me with a poison that burns my very existence to ashes, I use what time I have left to browse the collection of pictures I have taken of my love over these past few months. Charlotte is unaware of this of course, and she is unlikely to find out for I can never make my existence known to her. For even in my rapid decline, with the failing of my once keen and powerful mind, I am painfully aware that there can be no future for a love shared between a woman and a broken laptop.




I started writing back in 2010 as an aid to recovery from Cancer. Although fully recovered I still write as I like to lose myself within a world of my own creation.


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