A man asked me today, "Do you bite?"
As if it were a form of flirting that was acceptable.
Calm, measured, checking.
His eyes played over me.
Those words from a stranger.
A joke.
Jest.
I detest.
What audacity inspires such brazenness?
He harasses as if it is his right.
What am I to say?
Hostile, bitter, challenging
Words boil in my stomach.
Things to speak and cut
Through his pride and comfort.
If it were safe,
But we were in a box.
Confined.
Floors ticked by as numbers on a screen.
Did he know I was trapped by the threat
Of his anger,
Pride.
I hide
My unease and rage
Like the thousands of women before,
As laughter at a man's
Disgusting words.
Held hostage.
Tick, tick.
I crank up music,
Look away, try to ignore.
And he continues
As if this tactic has worked before.
Such a vile creature.
I hope to never meet again.
Yet I will.
There are many men.
And their words hold
Little consideration or measure.
Alas the doors open,
Freeing me to leave.
Unsettled.
Yet he will easily forget.
About the Creator
Laura Lann
I harbor a deep passion for horror and fantasy, often heavily mixed together. After a tumultuous childhood, I find myself often writing about family dynamics as well. In my spare time, I can be found drawing or painting.
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