He was a man of routine and respectability, with a measured existence nestled in the quaint, picturesque suburbs of Maplewood. A retiree who had dedicated his life to shaping young minds as an English teacher, John had cultivated a calm life that hummed with the comfortable rhythm of familiarity and predictability. He lived alone in his two-story colonial house, complete with a white picket fence and a garden filled with blooming hydrangeas and roses.
It was a quiet, peaceful life, one far removed from the sensational headlines of the daily news or the cinematic thrills of Hollywood blockbusters. That’s why this day’s unnerving encounter came as such a shock to him. It was something he’d never imagined would happen to him in a million years…