Walking back from the cinema,
It was really cold.
I have a fast cold walk,
The air gets in my bones so I walk almost leaning forward,
The rain coming in at an angle.
My mates were sharing an umbrella, I had my own – a small one.
It was dark and I was about 50 metres ahead, trying to get my blood pumping.
Two men in their forties or fifties, grey coats, one with a cap and stubble:
“You’re a sexy little minx aren’t ya?”
I pretended I hadn’t heard, kept walking.
“Fucking streetwalker” under his breath.
I led in bed stewing all night.
I let out my street story to my friend:
“I shouted back”
“Did you? That was brave, I usually just stay quiet.”
“Yeah, me too – usually. There was a couple there.”
I was walking on the street
Going to meet my friend.
It was dusk,
I was on the phone to my mum and she was telling me something
I cant remember what it was,
But it wasn’t good.
My face must’ve showed – it does that.
I saw three men, or maybe four
In a group, standing by a street sign in a circle,
I kept walking,
I was talking too.
“Miserable bitch” one said
“Oh Fuck off ” I said. “What’s it got to do with you?”
This is why I don’t like going out.
Someone could’ve been dead for all they knew.
Not like they gave a shit – they just wanted to show they disapproved of my face I assume.
Why should I have to be on guard all the time?
If that couple hadn’t been on the other side of the road, I mightn’t have shouted back.
I was glad I had flat shoes on, could’ve made a run for it if I had to.