Kiesha stepped out of her moms
house
with earbuds
in her ears because she
did not feel like hearing weirdos
begging
her for
attention as she went
on her merry way. The sun greeted her
like
a
unpaid bill.
Her neighborhood
was quiet, but she knew it wasn’t
going to
stay that
way for long because
the crackheads usually leave their
houses
around 11:00
am and it was 11:30am
Thirty seconds into her walk, she
saw him:
a creature
wandering toward her
like he really did not have anywhere
to go.
He had on a
white muscle shirt
but there were no muscles so there
was a
sort of muscular
confusion. He also
had on cargo shorts that looked three
sizes
to big.He was
suspicious.
Kiesha was seasoned in dodging
sidewalk
dilemmas,
When
the creature spoke she
gave him the same attention she'd
give a
parking
meter: none.
In her mind, she
imagined him back in his habitat—an open
field
with tire swings,
chicken nuggets
falling from trees, and a radio playing
Gregorian
chants
remixed with trap beats.
There, he could thrive. But not here.
Not with her.
Two blocks later, his cousin—a spiritual
twin in
neon
sneakers—made his approach.
This one had a Bluetooth headset and
spoke
entirely
in recycled
pickup lines.
Kiesha didn’t flinch. She pictured
him in
a
distant zoo exhibit
labeled: “Male
Homo Distractus – Warning: Loud
Footwear,
Low Insight.”
She breezed past like a goddess in
sneakers.
That night, Kiesha curled into bed,
proud of
her
composure. But her
subconscious
had a script of its own. She dreamed
of a
stampede
—beasts with
elongated arms and
designer tennis shoes chasing her
through
a
Strip
Mall. They
roared things like
“Smile more!” and “You got a man?”
while
juggling
discount body
oils and stolen
candy bars.
She woke up mid-scream, tangled in her
blankets like
they'd staged a mutiny.
Breathing fast. But safe. Home. Alone.
She smiled.
The
creatures could chase her
in dreams, sure. But in reality? She
had
the
last laugh.
And an electric scooter
in the closet.
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