I hear my boots
Scraping on the pavement
On an empty street
At 2 am

I see ribbons of light
Swirling around me
Ghosts of the cars
That went by

I feel prickles
On the back of my neck
Caused by the person
Following me

I breathe humidity
Thick in the air
I wonder if my companion
Can feel it too

I stop
My follower stands next to me
“Why are you here?”
“I was worried.”