flickered over an intersection like a twitching eye, watching madly over everything. As I walked, I became aware of a sensation I could only explain as prickly. My skin tingled, and I turned, casually taking in my surroundings. The gin I’d drunk made the world a roving thing and I felt a distrust of my own senses. As I turned, I saw that there was a car, driving slowly several feet behind me. The car was red and the dying sunlight that reflected off the windshield made it difficult for me to see who was inside. I stopped walking and watched the car roll closer. I felt acutely aware of my bare legs. They felt exposed and vulnerable. I was able to make out a man in the driver’s seat, wearing sunglasses. I didn’t recognize him. The car moved past me without stopping. The man didn’t even turn his head to look in my direction as he rolled by, but around his mouth hung a smile that disturbed me. I thought of the gun in my backpack. It was empty, but still held a weight in which I normally found comfort. As the car moved away, I considered how quickly I would be able to get the gun from my backpack into my hands. Not quickly enough, I decided.
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