Preparation

Trepidation filled my lungs with it’s nauseating toxin. I fled, head spinning, a chest crushing vice making each breath punishing. Unlike Dillinger, I was caught ten minutes later. John found me cowering behind a metal rack in a utility closet.

“Guess I'm still a runner, you know, when the heat is on. My emotions, they just get the best of me sometimes.” I was embarrassed.

“You're troubled.” John’s face was empty and expressionless as he spoke.

“I was about to say the same about you. You're pale. Excuse the pun, but you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I said.

“Maybe I have, it’s just the way you're lying like that, behind that metal rack, in this closet.”