Solitude behind glasses.

Twilight spilled across the sky with dark ink, gradually plunging the city into darkness. The work day was over and the residents of the metropolis rushed to take seats in their cars and mass transit to quickly get to their homes, where a well-deserved dinner and rest in front of the TV awaited them.

Many people were stealthily glancing at this guy. Some with condemnation, some with casual interest. But without any wonderment - no one can be shocked by pink hair sticking out in all directions and black glasses worn over his eyes, despite the evening. Oliver stumbled and cursed quietly. Just a little bit more - and it will be so dark that he will have to take off his glasses. This is the worst of all the troubles that could have happened to him. And all because of his damn best friend Ryan Miller. If this jerk hadn't been so keen to help our young coworker Linda rearrange the furniture in her office, Oliver would have been home a long time ago, drinking a well-deserved evening glass of bourbon in the brightly lit kitchen. But he had to stay with his friend and drag numerous cabinets, nightstands, tables, and other things from place to place until darkness. Of course, the right thing to do would have been to run away and leave Ryan to take the rap on his own - let him see in practice what "noble" impulses usually lead to but that would smell like betrayal. A friend in need is a friend indeed. Oliver has always followed this code of honor unconditionally.

The uneven road was already completely hidden in the shadows. The numbers on the mobile phone display showed 5:30 pm - this meant that the street night lights would be turned on soon, but that wouldn't help him so much. The young man stopped and leaned his hand on the wrought-iron fence of the city flowerbed. Okay, no need to drag it out any longer. It was still a long way to home, and if he wanted to get there without bruises and contusions, he would have to take off his glasses. He glanced around the street one last time, saying goodbye to his saving illusions, and reluctantly removed the dark plastic-framed lenses from his eyes. At first glance, the landscape had not changed – except that it had become much lighter. But if you looked closely…

A shadow crept quietly along the cornice of one of the residential buildings and disappeared into the nearest window. Oliver followed it out of the corner of his eye. He had seen similar shadows more than once. He called them “Heralds” and knew what their appearance meant – someone would soon die in the building... A loud child’s laughter made him turn away from contemplating the building and look in the opposite direction. There, waiting for the bus, was a family – mother, father, and daughter, a charming little girl of around six years old, with freckles that were bright even in the evening twilight, a funny scattering covering her upturned nose, and two tightly braided blond pigtails. The child suddenly stopped laughing and cast an attentive glance at Oliver. In response, the guy shuddered slightly and then turned sharply and quickly walked away, carefully avoiding the bus stop. He had no desire to play a staring contest with the creature looking through the eyes of this beautiful little girl. He wondered if her parents had already realized that something was wrong with their daughter, or not yet. Most likely, not yet, they are too carefree. No matter, two or three months will pass, a year at most, and they will notice. And then everything will be as usual: first suspicions, then confidence, following fear, next panic, and then the desire to get rid of the “creature”, the inevitable decision and terrible act. And, as the culmination, a jail or a psychiatric clinic for murder or attempt to murder their child, awaits them. Oliver felt the child’s inhuman gaze, calm and intent, on his back. He shivered again and quickened his pace. This was the main reason why he didn’t want to take off his glasses. The illusion of safety, they can’t see him until he sees them. The feeling of being watched intensified. Has someone else caught sight of him? This was not a good sign. The young man almost broke into a run, trying to calm down without raising his eyes from the ground.

It was one of the rules he had developed long ago - if you took off your glasses, don't look around. Why waste your nerves? Only in movies do people, having received supernatural powers, proudly rest their fists to the side, invent a bright costume for themselves, and jump to fight evil. Life is different. There are many of them here, very many, hundreds, or even hundreds of thousands. All the mysterious disappearances of people, unexplained and paranormal phenomena, strange unsolved crimes, and many suicides - these are all of them. And you can't do anything about it alone. Oliver smiled crookedly at his thoughts, glanced warily at the building, and breathed a sigh of relief. A little more walking and he’ll be home. He will put his sunglasses back on, drink his evening glass of bourbon, watch the nightly TV show, and maybe call Lizzie or Ryan to chat about the news and life in general. And for a while, he will allow himself to forget about the shadow “Heralds” and the little girls with the inhuman gaze. Oliver will pretend again that everything is fine, so as not to completely go crazy. And what else should he do? He can’t do anything or tell anyone. “Don’t tell anyone!” It was another of his rules, that appeared after he tried to save a neighbor lady to whom a “Herald” climbed. In gratitude, the neighbor lady called the police with a complaint that a madman had broken into her home. Oliver smiled sadly and muttered, “I’m so tired of being alone…”