“RUN! …. Just RUN!” He stumbled as he flew down the street, barely noticing where he was going. He flung himself inside and tried to dodge the people as in sheer panic he continued to move onwards. He only stopped when he was almost thrown off his feet after hitting a rather solid something. Blinking rather fast to clear his vision, he looked up. Ignoring whoever or whatever it was that he had hit he stumbled on again, panic always one step behind him, waiting for the time to fully engulf him. He grabbed a ticket stumbled onto the platform of the first train leaving, found a seat, sat and fidgeted. “Slow, too slow! I could run faster than this! Why is it taking so long?!” Finally the train began to move, slowly pulling out of the station. He fidgeted the whole time, nerves pulsating through his body, playing with His mind, making Him think He can out run a train, get to his destination faster. Instead His leg began to move of its own accord, beating out its own rhythm that clashed with the drumming of his fingers. At last the train pulled into its final destination, almost falling out of the carriage, he stumbled to the exit. Now out in the open he continues, past rows of cars, over a road onto a bridge, he glances down at the water as he passes, shakes his head, continues on. On He moves, up the road, past traffic lights, shops and night clubs now closed in the daylight hours. The road begins to climb slightly, becoming aware of this He stops. Finding Himself at more traffic lights, He crosses the road, earning himself a honk from a passing car as it narrowly misses his retreating feet. He continues up the road as it climbs and turns a corner. Over the next set of traffic lights his feet carry him. On up the hill, the road levelling out, his feet carry him past bus stops, cafes and shop fronts. A hill looms up, on his left, with a Castle on its crown. Barely noting this impressive sight, his feet carry him on to yet more traffic lights. Making a U-turn he now finds himself walking along a street parallel to the one he was on. Walking along this cobbled street, he passes more shops, cafes little side streets. He turns left down one of these and emerges out into an open area opposite fixed market stalls. He turns right keeps walking. “NO!” startled he looks up inches away from an elderly woman, realising this shout had come from him, he mumbles an apology then dives across the road into a news agent store. He comes out with a news paper to make his embarrassing escape look purposeful. He turns left, newspaper under arm, and once again immersed in his head as the whirlpool off thoughts starts up again. At the end of the road he turns right, crosses the road and all but falls through the door of a pub, ‘The Hanging Dog’.