Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Intrusive

I've somehow made it to the end of the block without any memory of the last five minutes. My heart is pounding and my fists are clenched, and the dog is panting from having walked so fast.

I can still see the kids that mugged me  - what is it, four years ago, now? - in my head, one posting up to block my path, the other trying to sweep in from the side, and me, beating them with a bag full of tupperware, the big kid cowering back with his hands up.

But what I can't seem to do is to stop seeing them.

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