This is a piece I wrote for creative writing, please review, I need some input on this. Salve.

A lone figure is walking through the crowds of downtown New York. She walks and walks until she reaches her refuge for the night, Central Park. Often she leaves her humble apartment and walks to this solitary spot of green, away from the loud noises and bright lights of the city.

I know this woman well. I see her every night, I have watched her sleep fitfully, full of nightmares, watched her leave behind her dreams to live in this hellhole. I have been biding my time, waiting for the opportune moment to approach her, to kill her.

I follow her through the park; it is dusk now, so I say in the shadows. She sits down by the lake and watched as children chased after crows on the grass. I could smell the wind, bringing the scent of grass and flowers, the last of the season, but also the scent of her, of life. She sits for awhile as the sun sets; the puffy clouds turn pink, then red, until the bright colors fade to silver as the moon rises.

She stands and starts walking again, until she reaches the brambly entrance to her clearing. I've been here before, I was there when she found the first dead leaf, when she saw her first hawk, when her niece was born, and now following her once more. I smell the leaves she crushes as she crawls into her space.

Now I'm close enough to smell her perfume, a scent I've never noticed, of mint and citrus. I'm closer now, I feel the heat emanating from her body, the perfume is intoxicating. I don't want to disturb this beauty lying under the towering oak trees, but she calls to me. I want her; I've wanted her for so long. I sit down by her head; her breath is slow and measured, her skin cool from the autumn night. I lean over and she stirs, whispered words unperceivable.

I sit back, away from her temptation. I stand up, I cannot kill her, she is too perfect. Maybe some night I may not be able to overcome my feelings, but not tonight, not now. I'll just wait from afar, hopefully.