Panick in the city

Every now and then, when I’m just strolling through the city, minding my own business, enjoying the sunshine warming my skin, my eye catches a random stranger with a look of pure panick on his or her face. And right then and there my fantasy and curiosity gets the best of me.

I’m a very curious person by nature. I love observing people and analyzing them.
So my mind starts racing immediatly. What is this person scared of? Why is he walking around so fast, not looking at a single person, trying to be invisible? All kinds of scenarios entertain my thoughts. Did he just steal something? Does some crazy mafia hitman have a bullet with his name on it? Or would he be just a random person who came in the possession of some secret government information and is now the main target of some secret assassin service?

Maybe she cheated on her husband and just learned that he found out. And the husband is a psychotic obsessive lunatic who’s already sharpening his knives to cut her and her lesbian lover up in pieces, while screaming “If I can’t have you for myself, no one will have you!”. Or she just escaped from being introduced into the prostitution network by human traffickers. She could be a nurse who just killed an old person after forcing him to put her in his testimony. And now she’s on the run, because she might have been caught. Or maybe…

I know, I know. My fantasy tends to get out of control. And I enjoy it. Usually. But honestly, it just looks weird to walk around the city or get of a bus with a facial expression formed by some secret personal terror. It leaves mere passants like me struggling with this nagging, wondering-what-happened feeling.

The things you see in the city….

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