Thinking back, I
heard the guy running behind me, his shoes smacking against the wet pavement,
the echoes bouncing from the buildings. He pushed past me, his arm bent in
front of him, his elbow slammed against my arm. I clapped my other hand against
my tricep and shouted “Ow! Watch out!”
Then I heard the
woman farther behind me. “Help! He stole my purse! Stop him!”
I saw the guy
running ahead of me now, clutching a woman’s purse under his left arm, his
right arm pushing ahead of him as he ran.
I’m not one to
get involved. I’m no hero. He just…pissed me off. Stealing some woman’s purse
and pushing people around. I clenched my fists, staring after him, scowling. I
felt heat against my palms, my fingers. I wasn’t thinking as I lifted my fists,
just feeling them get hotter and hotter. I flung them forward, my fingers
pointing toward the still-running thief. A wave of energy rolls across my skin.
Thunder rumbles, echoing between the buildings. The runner arches, dropping the
purse, throwing his arms out for balance, as if he was hit from behind. Still
moving forward, he falls face first against the pavement.
A couple of guys
jump on him, holding him down. The woman shoulders past me, wheezing. “My
purse!” I stare at my open hands…
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Time
writing
|
25 minutes
|
|
|
|
|
July
word count
|
9,981
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