Pocket Litter

You walk along the pavement on a day no different than any other. The rain patters down around you in a surround sound Sony will never achieve. Your hands in your pockets, you hunch your shoulders against the cold and lower your hood further. Your sneakers slip as you jump onto the sidewalk to avoid the puddles littering the road. A car drives past and conveniently relocates those puddles to the sidewalk. Lucky your hands were in your pockets.1

The sky watches you with its lonely eye and marks your ambling progress. Just as you sight home, you begin to notice a new sound mixed with the rain's assault. It is the sound of another pair of sneakers, sneaking up behind you. Keeping your hands thoroughly in your pockets you push your legs to out walk the sneaking sneakers. But to no avail. A shadow lengthens between your feet and you are overtaken.2

"You dropped this," says a man holding out your wallet as he slows his run. "Almost didn't catch you." You smile, and he continues on his way, hands hanging at his sides.3