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| >> Static Item >> Other >> Comedy >> ID #1606248 |
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Nearly Bagged It.
Someone there to take my life? Dear God, what if he’s got a knife? Cannot breathe, my head's in a spin. Black terror rushes in. I cannot run anymore, but he’s still out there, that’s for sure. Heard the footsteps after leaving Sue’s. He’s coming, what’ll I do? Fled across the open park. Saw him following in the dark. Ran as fast as my legs would go, but soon they tired and so… Clinging to a stair wall, certain he’s seen his quarry fall. My heart is pounding, breathing fast. Will this sight be my last? Footsteps get closer still. Grabbing the Mace, knowing the drill. Wait for the face then spray like hell. Footsteps come to where I fell. “Why did you run?” Sue says A troubled look upon her face. “I only wanted my bag back. They’re both alike, both black.” Felt a fool and blushed red. “Sorry, I didn’t know,” I said. Swapped two bags that looked like clones. Said goodbye, then limped home. Next day, shopping on-line. Replaced the black for one in bright lime. Next time I leave a friend’s affair, I’ll take my bag, not theirs. 32 lines
© Copyright 2009 Alan Philps (UN: anglophile at Writing.Com).
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