Imagined foes | 3 September 2006

When walking through a certain part of the city, I imagine that anyone I can see (and those I can’t) may be a foe. I pass few people on those streets, so when I do, my hands are clenched, even when they’re in my pockets. I hold the passerby in my peripheral vision, but never look into their face. When they are close enough to touch me, or say something intended for me, I chew my lip and tense my fingers and squint into the distance.

I’ve never had an actual clearly bad experience in that area, but several that were verging on it, lurching crazily in that direction, or sneaking past suspiciously. I’ve saved the wasted adrenaline and indignation and anger for a time that I’ll really need it.

But fall is coming (it seems to be here already) and for these trips I will probably take the bus, where I will take deep breaths, trying not to breathe.

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