Done shopping with Pete. He needed supplies for his run. Figured I'd go along. Wasn't doing anything. Bit wet out. Rained all night and into this morning. You get used to it. When you run, you accept the weather. Can't change it. Why let it bother you?
Thing is, another storm is coming. The other kind. Yes, still. I can feel it. Whole time we were out, I felt chills. Call it paranoia. Call it instinct. Call it whatever you want. I just know there were two guys following us. Bigger, hooded, always an aisle or two away.
I made sure Pete was aware. He said I was just anxious. I told him anxiety kept me alive. He laughed. I'm afraid for him. I don't think he knows just how dark this road gets.
The rain stopped a little bit ago. I'm more paranoid than ever. The calm will break eventually. I want Pete on the road before it does.
No one has to die.
"No one has to die" HA. Tell that to all my beloved victims. Oh WAIT. You can't. Because they are dead. Besides, I have an official statistic of who has to die. According to the 2011 survey of all the people who have lived, 100% of them will die. Shocking I know. But evidentially EVERYONE dies. Isn't it great?
ReplyDeleteEveryone dies. Just not from the oncoming storm. I won't allow it.
ReplyDelete