Paranoia
Footsteps.
Drawing ever closer.
Increasingly louder.
I stop.
Wait.
Intake of breath.
Look around.
No one.
Just blackness.
I walk faster.
Heart pounding.
Silence.
Then...
Footsteps louder.
Closer.
Glimpse of long hair.
Ring in nose.
Leather coat.
Paranoid mode.
‘Dropped yer wallet mate?’
' Oh! Thanks.’
Copyright © Ken Duddle | Year Posted 2012
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