The crammed sidewalks thinned and swirled and then opened up, giving me a clear view across the street. Once again I froze, staring at the man standing just under the streetlamp. Oh god. He looked strangely normal in his jeans and cream sweater that set off the rich tone of his skin. The light above created a halo around his head and shoulders. He almost could’ve been a young working man, trying to relive his college days, but the dangerous aura around him was obvious. He was no damned angel.
I should be scared. Forget scared. I should be outta my mind, shitting my pants like the time the gator got onto the pontoon while my friend and I were collecting crawfish traps. However, the last thing I was capable of feeling right now was fear.
Enthralled, I stepped to the edge of the curb, barely registering the cars going by, as I drank him in as if I were dying and he was the last thread connecting me to this life. It was hard to make out the details of his face, but his skin was golden, his body long and lean. His eyes bored right into me and I imagined they were that shade of brown that was so deep it was like you were sinking right into them. His head was shaved and, for some reason, I couldn’t quite pin his race down. It was like he could claim any number of ethnicities, or maybe something else, long since gone.
He was more darkly striking than the moonlight on the bayou back home, or the haunting song of the cicadas, or whatever else made me think of beauty, danger, and sorrow at once.
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