Today’s world can be described as a flicker of lights and impressions. Everywhere we go, we are presented with issues to have an opinion on, something to choose between. Even when walking down the street, or taking a Sunday stroll in the park, we see so many different faces and people, that it is almost impossible to take notice of all the details when passing by. However, if we were able to take in all of these impressions, if we had the time to look closer, perhaps we would experience, that some things aren’t what they appear to be, that everyone has a secret. This might well be a harmless secret - but what if some people carry a horrifying side of themselves, which they hardly ever reveal? Should we be more alert, or would that just lead to unnecessary paranoia? These are the questions Stephen King raises with this short story, in which he shows us a frightening example of a hidden personality, as well as portraying a man’s miserable search for love.
The setting of the story is New York City on a mild spring evening in 1963. There is a peaceful atmosphere in the streets, the air is soothing, and along Third Avenue people are standing outside the little shops and delicatessens - Smiling and waiting for the day to turn into night. King perfectly describes the mood:
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