Casual, casual, casual …
The one word mantra pulsed through his head with every step and every increasingly shallow and harsh breath.
His left hand grasped the bursting full shopping bag, to the point of white knuckles. With every 20 yards of progress, he found himself resisting the urge to dart his eyes around the moderately populated evening streets.
Casual, casual, OH CRAP !
His pulse crashed into overdrive, and the mantra dissapeared and was replaced with cold fear.
Two policemen emerged from an alley ahead of him. Further hope was squashed within him as they turned towards him and continued their patrol in his direction.
Icy hands of calm seized his brain and control of his muscles just before complet panic took over.
Casual, they don’t even know you exist, casual, casual…
He breathed deeply and continued down the street, ever closer to the police, and his goal beyond them.