A Lovely Striped Umbrella.

It started with her umbrella, left behind in the staffroom. Red and white stripes like a child's sweet. I picked it up, held it longer than I needed to, ran my thumb across the handle and imagined the shape of her hand where mine now rested. That night I watched her on the CCTV playback. Twice. She never knew. But curiosity didn't stop at replaying the feed. I began zooming in, frame by frame, studying her face close-up as if I were learning her by heart. Then I let the camera wander ' not just her, but everywhere it could reach, hunting for moments I was never meant to see. I told myself it was harmless. I'm ashamed of it now. But I'm still watching after more than a year.