Sunday, March 10, 2013

The Run

The man smiled from a distant, calling at someone near her.  She was not bothered.  She briskly walked past him and was surprised to be called a teacher.  He was not the father of a friend, but in his fifties.  She could not recall any connection with him.  She pulled herself away.
Her heart raced, her mind wandered.  She could not find courage to lift her head up as she walked pass the second time.  He read her like book, and summoned a hey in a less enthusiastic tone.  She forced a grin and walked away as fast as she could.  And there he was, another guy, her age.  In slippers!  He should be running.  Her head mapped out plentiful assumptions.        

Her last encounter freaked her out.  It took her years to break free from the nest.  Should age help her face them, she would not make a run.  

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