Half Dressed Grit

Careening down the worn concrete stairs, Raphael was a sight. Rough overhanging shirt, sauce stained inner t-shirt over worn denim. A butter toast hung from his mouth as he tried to tell me something.

‘Raphael you are spitting bread crumbs’ I yelled squinting my eyes from the free load of itsy toast.Sorry Glen, I’m late for my library date he said as he hopped onto his bike and zipped off.
Left left, right left and unto the boulevard I can still make it but Mehn I’m late, so late. So……..My final turn unto the library Boulevard greets me with an eerie silence as though I was in the library. The entire left section of the boulevard was now a huge tear in the earth, the library now a half eaten snack.
A primitive cry, and earth quaking footsteps told me what was responsible. In my reverie I didn’t realise I was being shaded from the sun, I noticed and knew what would happen next as I looked up with a smile at 8 tons of slender death, all HIM.
My last coherent thought, She has to be aright. No matter what i’ll get to her but first i have to escape those jaws.

Picture courtesy: en.wikipedia.org

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