There it is again. The ‘look’, the slight shift in posture.

“Hey! I can see you, you know, what the hell is your problem?!”

I don’t say it, at least not out loud, but I can feel my eyes shouting. He looks away, turning back to his meal, leaning in closer to his dining companion. I’m too far away to hear, but I know they’re talking about me. Though I don’t know WHY. It’s been happening all day. All fricking day! I’m sick of it, it’s like I’ve grown a second head! Stopping at the next shop window, I turn to face it, pretending to study the array of shoes on display. Nope. No second head. No third eye. Not even so much as a drop of bird shit on my shoulder. Shifting my gaze off my (admittedly ravishing) self, I scan the scene behind me. I don’t know these people. Well, not all, not most. There are of course some familiar faces. Those are the ones that pain me the most. If I know them, even in passing, then they surely know me. Just talk to me for Gods sake! But no one does, it’s like there’s a bubble around me, if I start to approach they move away. Again, why? Maybe I should try the couple at the table. I don’t know them, and surely they’re not going to get up and leave their meal just because I’m getting closer? Jesus, I actually am, I AM getting closer, my feet seemingly working on their own. Left, right, left, right.

She notices me. Not him, the one who glared at me before, but his companion. She’s places her hand on his arm, whispers something and I can see him tense. He doesn’t turn, but raises his hand to snag a passing waiter. Oh, looks like they might be done after all, he’s getting the bill. With an effort I arrest my progress, stopping directly across the street from the alfresco diners, pretending I actually was interested in the bright yellow jacket proudly on display.

I take a breath, deep. I don’t know what to do. I have to talk to someone, I haven’t said a word to another all day, not after last night. What the hell did happen last night? It’s so blurry, vague flashes behind my eyes. I get a sense I know, but it’s always just out of reach. Should probably meditate, get away for a bit and forget all these idiots.

I don’t see it coming, don’t even feel it until I’m on the ground. The lag between the blow and the pain is like an eternity. Can’t breath. I can’t breath! A spasm wracks my body and I cough, gasp really, more of an exhale of nothing. Through freshly tear-streaked eyes I look up, can’t make out features but the profile against the blinding sun speaks of an athletic frame, long slightly wavy hair falling either side of her shoulders. There’s something familiar there. I make to speak out but she kicks me again, filling my vision with stars.

“Bitch,” she says, and steps over me, walking away.

There’s that question again, why? It plays at my thoughts, but only for a moment. My minds a jumble, can’t make sense of it. It’s getting dark all of a sudden, but I’m not blacking out. I’m remembering. Ah.