Richard sat down on the park bench, trying to stay calm. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His stomach was lurching and the muscles on the back of his neck where tightening up. From the corner of his eye, he could see the grey clothed man sitting down on a bench diagonally across from him. The man brought out a large newspaper and purposefully hid his face behind it. He was certain now, he was being followed.
 Why would these people be interested in just another accountant? He couldn’t think of any recent cases that had been out of the ordinary. Or was it something else? Had they found out about the paper stack he had hastily dumped into the plastic bin last week? “Stop being ridiculous Richard,” he forced himself to think, “nobody would use an organized spying network for neglection of waste separation.” Richard was infamous among friends and family for his paranoid habits. At first it had seemed an endearing quirk, but as he got older it had become more worrisome. After much pressuring from his parents, he had started going to a therapist some months ago. Slowly he was making progress.
 Something was definitely going on today, however. On his way to work he had had multiple weird encounters. The first Watcher had been a short, brown haired woman on the train. She repeatedly glanced at him over her glasses, awkwardly trying to mask her obvious interest in him. Richard had ignored her, assuming the woman to be a bit dim. Sometimes you met weirdos on the train. He had simply accepted it as one of the inevitabilities of life and moved on.
 The tall man outside the train station had been more subtle. Keeping a safe distance between them, the man had done an admirable job keeping out of Richard’s sight. He had not expected, however, Richard’s habit to continuously watch his back in every available window. Many a time had his friends mocked his nervous nature, but today it had served him well.
 As soon as the tall man had taken a different turn, a young man in a grey trench coat and a bowl hat had taken his place. That same man was now sitting across from him, his face buried in his newspaper. Who even carries those around anymore? Everyone around them was looking at their phone, and here was a guy in classic detective garb spying from behind a newspaper. Still, clumsy as his attempt was, Richard had no idea what the man’s agenda was. He had little hope that it would be beneficial to his own wellbeing.
 Trying to mask his body language as best as he could, he breathed deeply through his nose and forcefully relaxed his shoulders. If the man were alerted of Richard’s awareness of him, there was no way to predict the actions of the Watchers. He needed to keep the ball in his court. A quiet approach it was, then. He didn’t dare use his mobile to get the police involved. Might as well shout at them that he knew about their plans. He’d best keep on the move to remain unpredictable.
 As he stood up, trying not to look at his follower, he noticed three men coming across the street in the same grey detective garb. Would it still seem natural to walk the other way? When he turned around, he found the woman from the train staring straight at him with a determined look on her face. The man on the bench laid down his newspaper and slowly got to his feet.