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Finally, the workday wrapped up, and I stepped out into the cooling evening air, deciding to stop at the grocery store on the way home. I needed to stock up on essentials, mostly comfort food to deal with my lingering hangover and emotional chaos.
The store was quiet, the fluorescent lights humming softly as I cruised the aisles, tossing microwave dinners and a bottle of aspirin into my cart. By the time I checked out and stepped into the parking lot, night had completely fallen, the streetlights casting long shadows across the asphalt.
That's when I saw it again: a shadowy figure lurking near the edge of the lot, just beyond the glow of the nearest lamp. My skin prickled with unease, a chill running down my spine that had nothing to do with the breeze.
Oh, guess my stalker was back to 'check up on me.'
