I watched him from my kitchen window, his presence boisterous, with a mixture of confusion. He never knew that I was there. I`ve never met anyone…like him a meant, not really. You passed them on the street…but having one living so, nearby. Sometimes, he wouldn’t be seen for weeks but always returned and just be in and out of his flat, quiet as a mouse. I believed he was a loner—no family or friends. Well, no one came around, except a few strange-looking folks. His shouting would be the first, sign that he was hammered. Yeah, he cussed a lot, and sometimes--it appeared as if he`s been fighting, his shadow. I almost felt sorry for him, after using up all that energy, who really does that?

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       The children called him, the crazy man. My son and his friends would play outside, and just hearing his voice, would leave them stumbling over each other. He never chased them, his voice did that for him. I once encountered, his insane behaviour, and his action was frightening. His tall and slender frame moved, faster than I thought. I heard his enraged from the top, of the street. The scariest thing was… there wasn’t anyone around. He threw his hand like a ragged doll. His steps and appearance seemed ferociously disturbing, sweat running down his face. The eyes are always the creepiest, dark, and lifeless, if he popped them any further, they would be hung out--and dangled strangely.

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      I…I wasn’t expecting to see him so, early in the morning. I believed it isn’t just the alcohol he took, one time I saw him, buying the whites. He wasn’t even decreet about it, so now he behaved like a wild rodent with rabies. His mouth appeared dried as if; he had no saliva left. Honestly, I wanted to run, but couldn’t, I shouldn’t as he got closer, my head started to thump harder. I counted every heartbeat in my chest, over and over. He aggressively kicked, something from off the ground and it fell to the other side of the street. At this point, he began shouting at me. Yet…my instinct kept saying that, I shouldn’t run. I went into my pocket, took my phone out, and pretended to be speaking to someone. I`m not sure, why I`ve done that but I did. I knew and felt it, in my bones, he wanted to scare me, and for that moment I was. Still, I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

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      We passed shoulder level, to each other, and my heart sank as he slowed down his pace. I thought…that was it, he growled as he went by, he muttered something. Woman, “I’ll hurt you”, he didn’t stop but kept on walking. My hearing became my compass. I repeated his words over and over, in my head without looking behind me, and just kept walking, until I couldn’t hear his voice anymore.