Bournemouth University Diaries

What if I turn into a romantic stalker? (an online journalism practical exercise, to stalk and write)

He is a bold headed middle aged man with tattoos on his forearms. He shows up walking around fast, going into the gym talking to the people at the desk, then the up to the gallery and looking inside, making comments to himself in an almost singing voice.

Looking like someone with a street history (street-wise). Irish, a clover tattoo on one arm and an Irish flag on other.

He is sitting on the wall, having a break, slowly smoking a rolled cigarette, talking to a friend. He rubs his eyes.

Checking me out.

Has knuckle tattoos and a ring on his middle finger. Scars on his head,, fresh. Wrinkled head, weary.

Has a cigarette break, then goes up to the gallery carrying a vacuum cleaner, looking obedient and submissive, grateful.

He has a kind, soft voice, contradicting his appearance. A handsome face, but weary, deep set blue eyes. Well built, but ruined.

At first seems indifferent to his work, but maybe because he is being watched, a hint of pride appears. He looks restless, childlike.

Has a colleague, a short partially bold man with glasses, thorough in what he does, shy and probably a little deaf as his walkie-talkie is set on very loud. He kindly lets me go through the door as I walk past.

Both have respect for each other, very polite to each other, not too close but respectful. Easily get their hands into the dirt, but with a responsibility.

Happy natured as his phone rings he is talking to his “mate” about the soccer game that will be on tonight. Subtly suggests to his colleague that he can join them.

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