Psychopath

The Psychopath The lane is siesta empty, meanders forever amongst olive trees and budding almond flowers, but afar I see a black clad man, an ominous shadow, marching towards me. He has got one hand in his pocket, a knife? Bet he is a psychopath out to see if he can kill someone without being caught. Nowhere to run fields are soggy and he’s younger than me; he will catch up and plunge a knife in me when I’m exhausted. When he stops and looks around to be sure there are no witnesses, I quickly bend down and pick up a big stone I can hit him over the head with it, I think I’m stronger than him. He looks tense as he passes me on the opposite side of the lane, I stop pretend to look at the sky, can’t let him thrust his knife in my back. He’s running now, see him disappear around a sharp bend but I wait till sure he ain’t coming back, I better arm myself with a kitchen knife next time I go out the world is full of bad people.