NO RETURN

J.C. Sillesen

Chapter One

Someone is watching me.

The feeling of wrongness had been there, tickling the back of my mind for several days, but this was the first time I could remember the sensation taking coherent form.

The thought that immediately followed, naturally, was, Of course someone’s watching you. You’re a singer, for God’s sake. But I wasn’t thinking of the dark forms of the watching directors for whom I’d auditioned, or even the patrons at the restaurant where I worked part-time as a waitress and was occasionally required to stroll between the tables and sing popular opera to give the place “atmosphere” (George, the owner’s words, not mine, of course).