It was a stupid mistake. I should not have taken the canal shortcut. Not at this time of night. Three shadowy figures, lurking by the footbridge, shuffle in the darkness. Their voices float eerily over the water; deep and threatening. I could turn back, but surely they have spotted me. Now is not the time to show weakness. Quickening my pace, I continue walking nervously forwards. Defence strategies established; swimming not yet ruled out. They laugh and push each other as I pass totally ignored, protected by the cloak of invisibility; at 62, the younger generation don’t even see you.
Published: Five Minute Lit
