It all happened so quickly. Looking back, she couldn't quite remember the exact sequence. Yes, before it happened she was with 1 bag, 4 credit cards, 1 driver's license, 1 Motorola Razr, pink, 1 lucky charm, 1 ID badge. After it happened she was without. It was the inbetween bits that remained hazy. She thought he had had a knife but she wasn't sure. He had cut her bag from its moorings around her neck, so he must have had a knife. But she wasn't sure. "Did he hurt you?" the cops kept asking. "Does your shoulder pain? Did he yank at it?" I don't know, she wanted to say. But she said no. She didn't think so. All her friends asked her but what happened? Where were you? How could this happen? She gave them the detailed story that she'd arrived at. The version that she'd culled by compromising what must have happened with what she'd remembered happening. They were satisfied. I can't believe you take it so calmly. She laughed it off. She was ok. Everything was fine. Just minor hassles to overcome. Cards to replace. Phones to buy.
But in the middle of the night she could see his brown eyes. Looking into hers the minute before he snatched her bag. Filled with a vindictive delight. I am taking what ought to have been mine.
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5 comments:
so not feeling bad for the poor effed up kid anymore?
Brown Magic
ouch.
sympathies.
@bm: poor effed up kid
My sentiments exactly. Is that feeling bad for him? I dunno :)
@??!: Ty, ty. I should probably give up on the third person!! :)
@heh heh: There you go again with the deserving sympathy bit. How can anyone ever do something that is so vile that you can't even offer them a little bit of sympathy? It's not like it's a badge of honor, no?
Great work.
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