On Being Followed

I got off the bus one stop early so that I could take the shortcut down Guerrero to 18th. By providence, I caught a stranger’s eyes on me as I exited the bus. This was no typical glance to appreciate some part of my figure; it was a deeper gaze—one that startled me. In an instant I decided to take a different route. I would walk down 16th first, then down Valencia, with lots of people around just in case.

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