The Man
The Man walks down the street. You follow him, quietly. He doesn't seem to notice you, but then again he wouldn't show you if he did.
Your hands are sweaty and clammy. The cold winter air brushes past you unnoticed, all your attention is concentrated on the shadow in front of you.
He weaves through the people as if he were water. You have no difficulties following him. You have been trained for this, you know what you have to do.
And still.
There is no time for doubt now, but still it crawles up the inside of your skull and nestles itself deep in your thoughts, where you can't get rid of it.
What if...?
The Man turns a corner and vanishes for a few seconds. Your heart starts beeting faster. You could loose him. The fog hangs thick between the skyscrapers. You cold loose him in this mist. People hurry past you, eyes fixed straight forward. You could loose him between all these people. You could.
You turn the corner and there he is, standing right in front of you, staring at you.
You stop.
You have not been trained for this. You have not been told what to do.
You do not know what to do.
The Man stares at you from underneath his hood. You feel his eyes on you, piercing through you.
You do not know what to do.
The Man raises his hand, points a gun at you.
You do not know what to do.
"Will you catch me?"
You do not know what to do.
"Or will you trust me?"
You do not know what to do.
