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By Bridget Midway


Some walls can't always protect you. A young woman learns that after confronting a man she's been watching, scoping, for a few weeks. Assuming an identity she finds on a business card, her interests are purely carnal as she walks with this handsome stranger along the Virginia Beach boardwalk on a hot July night. But when the watcher becomes the center of attention from an surprising viewer, will the realization bring down the very walls she's built up around herself or add another layer?



Walls by Bridget Midway

I fell in love with his hands. Fuck that eyes shit. Windows to the soul and all that garbage. The hands. That's the real way to know a person, to understand him. And the right set of hands could turn me into butter.

Although I don't consider myself a stalker, I'd been watching this man for several days. Okay, it was more like a few weeks.

What's a single girl to do during the summer down in Virginia Beach? The bar scene bored me. Not much into gawking at tourists. After a while they all start to blend in together into a mess of polyester, plastic flip-flops and cheap sunglasses. Besides, I like to focus my attention on one thing.

I wasn't stalking him. Not really. It wasn't like I had followed the guy home or anything. I have morals. I have standards.