They called him Tom—not his real name.
This guy was no head-hanging Tom Dooley.
Tom liked to watch. A voyeur. A peeking peeper.
A people watcher of the lowest and riskiest form.
Yet, old Tom was submissive. Not dangerous. But who knew?
Night was his time—windows framed his fantasies.
One day Tom saw something that made him
stop peeping—almost. “Now I’ve seen everything.
My life is complete. And I need to go to confession,
but not with that priest.” Tom, confided in himself.
Then, late one warm summer night, there was a scream.
Someone else yelled.
Dogs barked.
Tom ran.
He heard a gunshot.
Maybe Tom had seen everything. But he never made it
to confession. He died doing what he loved.
What he needed.
And he died running,
just not fast enough. Peeping Tom was no more.
“And another one gone” and
“Another one bites the dust.”
Look both ways.
Exhibitionists and watchers can work together,
each according to his, her, or their wants and needs.
Our Literary Journey 
Voyeurs are just exhibitionists lacking self-assurance. They secretly wish somebody were interested in looking at them.
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Good to know. Thanks, Richmond.
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Gee. Perhaps I know too much ….
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A mighty fine tale Bill, brilliantly narrated. I think the world is full of Toms and Tomasinas now, aided by over intrusive Social Media, security cameras etc. and exhibitionism seems endemic!
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Thanks, Peter, Indeed, these days everyone has a camera. 🙂
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I had me a Peeping Tom when I was in high school… The guy – whom I knew and went to my school – was lucky he ran faster than my father and uncle (and that neither had a shotgun…)
I met his sister at a school reunion this past August. She was not surprised in the least! Sheesh…
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Oh right. We all know someone who (one thing or another). 🙂
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Ya think?
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Yep. Every now and then one of them pops up in the news.
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True…
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