You're sitting in a coffee shop when someone comes and sits opposite you. You look up from twirling the sediment from the bottom of your drink and smile as politely as you can.
There's plenty of seats in the shop, and there should be no reason why they'd have to sit right there. You remember someone on the bus once coming to sit next to you just because they like to chat to people, and you hope that's not what they're here for now.
Should you say something? Maybe they think you're someone else, or you're sitting in their favourite spot and they're trying to scare you into moving.
They say nothing though, and you look back down at your drink. It was almost finished, and maybe you should just leave. Taking the final gulp you make that decision and reach down for you bag.
"You're an odd one aren't ya?"
In surprise you lift your head.
"Look at you, in that drab jacket and shoes a size too big, you look like you're ready for the circus."
You open your mouth, pause, then shut it before you look like a gobble. The sheer indignity of this person is making you outraged.
Shaking your head, you try and dismiss them. This person doesn't know anything about you.
"Don't worry, at least your hair only looks like a rat ran through it instead of a monkey."
Running your hand across the top of your head, you feel a blush coming to your face. This wasn't meant to happen today.
Making up your mind you decide to leave, and pull your bag off the floor. Not looking back at them, you rummage around it for your wallet.
"You can't even remember to bring your wallet."
Hand shoved down to the bottom, you freeze. You had forgotten your wallet; it would still be sitting on the dining table where you left it last night after promising yourself you'd put it in your bag this morning.
"There's that spare change in the pocket."
You scrunch up your face and wonder how they know that. There was always a bit of spare change in the pocket, for emergencies like this one. Taking out a few coins you stand up, hoping they don't follow you. You had had enough of listening to them.
"Of course you're running away, all you want to do is hide" they sneer.
Fingering the edge of your drab shirt you know you're running away. You're trying to hide from this person, and if they think all these things of you, what else could others be thinking?
Turning away from them and trying not to feel the colour in your face, you walk over to the counter and smile half-heartedly.
"It was the coffee and the scone?" The server asks.
"Yeah," you say softly, and hand over the money. "Thanks."
Heading towards the door you take another lost at your table. They've gone, disappeared, and now there's only an empty coffee cup.
You sigh, this isn't an end.
Walking out into the sunlight you shield your face and pause for a moment. It's quiet, peaceful.
"You better get walking before you get in the way."
Starting you turn to the familiar voice.
"Go away," you demand.
Their face upturns into a smirk.
"That's not my choice to make. I'm only here because you know everything I say is true."
Hunching your shoulders, you start walking in the opposite direction.
"Don't embarrass me" they call. But by the time it reaches your ears it's more a whisper, running round and round in your head, as you try to run away from the person you are.