Not A Stalker

Dear John,

I am so embarrassed by last night's situation!

My friend had mentioned that driving by the dark of the ocean with only the crashing waves for company might help me "think deeply" about my jerk of a boyfriend. (He dumped me earlier that day. I'm still devastated, of course.) After tossing and turning and a box of used kleenexes,I decided to take that drive and headed north.

I ended up in Malibu pretty well "thunk out". I wanted to see something besides the nothingness of the ocean at night. I turned off the ocean road and wound my way through the hills. The houses were beautiful! Stopping in front of yours was purely coincidence. I simply found the contrast between the deep wood of the privacy fence startling against the soft greens of the palm leaves nestled against it. (Did I mention I am an avid photographer?) I stopped to take a picture completely unaware of who lived in the house!

I swear, I figured whoever lived in the house was sound asleep and blissfully unaware of my presence! Being buried so deep in my own troubles I had completely forgotten it was awards night! Not that I expected you to show up in the first place. And I admit, asking you for your photo was probably in poor taste, not to mention incredibly stupid.

Anyway, I just wanted a chance to explain myself without causing you fear for your life.

NOT a Stalker,

Sylvia Stout

P.S. I included a copy of the picture I was trying to take. Sorry about the blur. I was a bit surprised by your presence.

*** Seven Days, Seven Answers ***