Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

The drizzle was turning to dusk and even the thin crowd there was had faded. Harry trudged down the path again. He held up his wrist. Six, and no sign of AAA. Damn. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw someone behind him. He looked over his shoulder, but he got only a glimpse before it flitted away. He’d thought he was alone.
Here was the four-way intersection again. Deep in thought, he absent-mindedly turned left. Under a dripping statue he thought he heard someone behind him; he turned, but no-one was there. Looking around now, he realized the path looked familiar. The statues, trees, shadows: all seemed part of an old life. Then he remembered: he last had been down this path that last time with Kelsie. Since then he had not come even to the park, until his car broke down today.
Uneasy, Harry continued down the path. Somehow it fit his mood. Under the crate myrtles by the bend toward the lake he paused again. Then the crate myrtles had cast pink and purple shadows onto the last kiss. Now they dripped in the dusk. He turned. Again movement shifted away, persistent, yet reticent, as a shadow.
“Why are you following me?”
The movement flitted back toward him. A few yards away was a figure, slight, grey as if part of the nightfall. The face opened up to him and the dusk like a once forgotten dream. Now he understood. In a flash returned the argument, the accident, the car drowning in the lake, the trial.
Harry bolted. The dark trees and statues rushed past him, taking him toward the lake. Looking over his shoulder he could not be sure if the grey figure followed. Then, up ahead to the side, it rose toward him.