They have been following me for some time now,
and by 'they' I mean them of course.
As long as I can remember as a matter of fact.
I'm not sure what they want,
or how to explain their unrelenting fixation on what I'm doing
or where I'm going.
Their incessant infatuation with me
suggests that they must be suffering
from an extreme case of alienation and solitude from the world.
But do not feel sympathy for them,
for I feel that in a way
they have been living through me for quite some time now.
They go where I go,
do as I do.
The other day I passed by the window of a store that had gone out of business.
Its windows were painted black,
thus offering the illusion of a mirror to those who passed by.
It was then that I saw them.
There were two of them.
Though it was only at a glance,
I could tell they were both dressed in identical black leather.
Upon seeing them,
I began to quicken my pace.
Almost instinctively they did theirs.
As if we were one.
I found the oddity of the situation slightly amusing.
Soon my amusement was overcast by a cloud of fear,
as my increasing speed did not falter their persistence.
I had always considered myself a fast runner,
but they seemed to have absolutely no trouble keeping up.
I was in full sprint.
I looked down to the sidewalk trailing under me.
The sun shone high in the sky.
I could see their shadows
ceaselessly mocking my every move.
Tantalizing.
Then something happened.
A moment that seemed to have found a gap in time.
For as I fell,
everything seemed to move slower.
They had finally caught up with me.
I couldn't help but admire
the delicacy of my body arced through the air,
complimenting the ground my shadow so slowly approached.
It was then that I saw the crack in the pavement.
It must have been a foot across.
The irony.
Then I saw them.
The sun dancing off their shiny leather triumphantly.
They had tripped me at last,
and at last I could see.
My shoes had gotten the better of me.
