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Try Not To Look
A backwards glance. Subtle? Absolutely not, but
paranoia has been steadily rising. The footsteps are
Running behind me now, closer and closer. Loud, in a ferocious
Way. Am I going to get knocked down? Kicked? Accosted?
I jump off the sidewalk, turn and glare at a young man in blue jeans
who grins at me, giving me a thumbs up sign as he races past.
Grateful the old woman had gotten out of his way,
I am the one with wet tennis shoes, not him.
A whole new perspective,
Relaxing now,
I stop clutching
My purse.
Copyright ©
Caren Krutsinger
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