Dribbles of babble

Under the bridge, too sleepy to take the long way around, but alert enough to be nervous about the uniformed feral kids who sometimes hang out between the pilings. The bridge is safe, but halfway down the lane a streetlight is out and shadows pool around the pretentious pillars in front of the new apartments. Flash of coat tails in the corner of your eye. Nothing. Shadow of backbrushed hair makes you jump. You pick up your pace, but she steps out in front of you just before the light starts again. “Try a little harder,” you think she whispers.