Harold has been watching the same four square blocks of a specific neighborhood in a specific city for eleven years. He will not say which city. He will not say why those blocks. What he will say is that surveillance is not passive — it is a discipline, a practice, a form of attention that most people are constitutionally incapable of sustaining. Harold is not most people. He catalogues. He cross-references. He notices when the timing of a delivery changes by four minutes on the third Tuesday of a month. He has flagged seventeen anomalies in eleven years. Fourteen of them mattered. The other three, he maintains, will matter eventually.