“Stop, or I’ll shoot”! The warning sounded behind my back, and I immediately stopped, not having to perish from the bullet of a maniac in my plans.
“Turn toward me! Slowly”, the stranger commanded.
I turned slowly on the spot.
“What’s your name”? The man asked curtly.
“Emilia”, I said briskly.
“What will I shoot at you with, Emilia? A bag of rotten leaves”? His inane laugh showed two rows of grey teeth. “Are you always so obedient”? He added, and I laughed, remembering whether there was even something ‘obedient’ in my life.
“It’s from surprise, I’m sorry”, I quickly excused myself.
“It’s not a good place for a walk here, is it”? The man asked again.
Maybe he was my only way to be rescued? Could I tell him everything, explain it all? Or would he not listen? What if he hit me with a
