Sighting

Anne looks at the street -  it has changed; there are men in uniforms and not a single one of them look friendly.  They seem different, off-putting, strange.  She wonders what they do, but then they scowl if she looks twice.  

Anne sees one soldier walk past her and she follows.  She covers a couple of blocks, and then she dips into an alley.  The person she has followed is a militant on-duty, and as soon as he meets with a person in the corner of the alley he has him shot. 

Anne gasps at the shot, and flinches at the blood gushing down the cement wall as the person shot crumbles to the ground.  Anne looks to the militant who spies her, and she turns and runs as he shouts and blows a whistle.

Anne rushes past a few blocks and then she hides behind a trash can.  She feels scared, not hardly safe, but no one comes near her so she thinks she is safe.


It is night when Anne emerges.  She walks down the street with tired on her brain.  She feels exhausted from hiding, and so she contemplates going to the bar which is glowing golden beams as the night becomes ever more stark.  Militants stare at her, and her interest wanes.  Anne tells herself to go home, but her walking image captures the attention of someone inside the bar and soon she is being followed.


Anne gasps as she looks behind and sees a militant on her trail.  She feels scared, and her body is thrown into panic as she turns two blocks and the militant is still behind her.

Anne wants to give herself up and give herself in, so she walks down a small alley which is tall and dark and clean of all object.  Anne feels the atmoshpere become dark and heavy, and when she reaches a wall she thinks that she is going to die.

Anne turns around -  a torch shines on her face and she is looked at closely.  Anne wishes she could get down onto her knees to pray, but she stands there staring at the light trying to look past it.

"What do you want?"  she bravely asks with a swallow.

Silence, and the militant keeps his torch on her as she grows pale and weak.  Anne wishes she knew what to do, but she doesn't; so she strangles her index finger for a few minutes before trying to walk past the militant.

One step and she is pushed against the wall in a manner so rough her shoulder gets bruised.  Anne feels tears glaze the top of her eyes, and she looks to the militant who can see her as clear as day.  

Anne sobs to herself.  She feels pathetic looking at a shadow so black she can't even see the face of the fellow who has stalked her.  Anne wipes her hands over her eyes, and then she glares at the torch once more.  It stays glowing at her face for a few minutes more before it is turned off again.

"I thought you were someone else;"  tells the militant.  "Excuse me;"  he mutters as though he has just risen from a dinner table.

Anne shrugs.  She looks at the wall behind her and she fingers it like it is a friend.  She has grown so cold inside she fears she might faint, but she stands strong; and she makes friend of the wall who keeps her standing as she listens to shoes walk away.

"It was me who saw you;"  mutters Anne in confession as she scrapes her nails so hard against the wall that cement crumbles down to her feet.  "Why?  Are you afraid?"  she asks as she looks up to the sky and sees nothing but a dead blank black blanket.  "I  am;"  she mutters as she rests her head against the wall.  "I am;"  she adds, before she tells herself to go home.