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THE PEDESTRIAN

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THE PEDESTRIAN
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  • To enter out into that silence that was the city at eight o' Leonard Mead most dearly loved to do.
  • To enter out into that silence that was the city at eight o'clock of a misty evening in November, to put your feet upon that buckling concrete walk, to step over grassy seams and make your way, hands in pockets, through the silences,
  • A beautiful night out
  • Sudden gray phantoms seemed to manifest upon inner room walls where a curtain was still undrawn against the night, or there were whisperings and murmurs where a window in a tomb- like building was still open.
  • HALT!!
  • He turned back on a side street, circling around toward his home. He was within a block of his destination when the lone car turned a corner quite suddenly and flashed a fierce white cone of light upon him. He stood entranced, not unlike a night moth, stunned by the illumination, and then drawn toward it.
  • What's your name!?!
  • Leonard Mead?
  • What are you doing out so late?
  • Just taking a stroll
  • You're under arrest!!Get in the car!
  • But I didnt't do anything!!
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