the space between the wicked lies
walking to reason and revelation today, i saw him.
that's right- after a few weeks of taking the long way to class, or going at odd times, or never leaving and then hiding in the bathroom and it all goes to hell when i'm on the stairs leading to the quad.
i had a death grip on my mug of coffee, sunglasses covering my scratchy sleep deprived eyes and earphones safely in my ears blaring out U2. when i'm in this mode, i feel pretty untouchable- my coffee shows that i'm a sophiscated twenty something who has an obvious need for a caffiene stimulant because i obviously have a wicked night life. the sunglasses are quite fashionable, denoting a certain flair for being instyle without being trendy and the earphones mean that i'm good enough to multi-task- that's right folks, i can walk and listen to music all at the same time. it also makes you wonder about what exactly it is i'm listening to.
anyways, up the stairs i go, feeling relatively safe in my cocoon of me, when i notice a herd of first years trudging down the steps towards me. automtically i drift to the right to get out of the way. and then, amongst them- a familiar [i think?] face. and damn- hair with gel in it. i remember that.
he veers towards me and i am almost cornered on the cornerless stairs when another group saves me and i dash away from the child i molested, walking quickly to the beat of sunday bloody sunday.
that was a close one.