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A Safer New York

As I exited the Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan, my thoughts were interrupted by a bunch of unruly skinheads, who shoved their way through the morning’s rush hour crowds. One of the smirking girls tripped me on purpose.

"You bastard!" I yelled, as I fell to the ground.

"Watch what you say to my girl, you freakin’ sonovabitch," one of them yelled. The word HATE was written across his forehead in red. He came toward me with a switch blade knife.

I sprang to my feet and punched his face. He fell backward and landed in the busy street. A speeding taxi ran over his head.

I stood there laughing.

"Better get outta here quick!" somebody said shoving me away. "Thanks for making New York safer."

I quickly merged myself into the masses pouring from terminal.

Reports of the tragic incident in the Daily News had me wearing everything from a camel topcoat to a green bandana. The cops would never discover my identity from such wonderfully erroneous, eyewitness accounts.

Bless those witnesses whose perceptions are so terribly distorted when something traumatic happens right before their eyes.

Story by:

Michael A. Kechula

m.kechula@att.net

submitted at 4:22am

4 June 2009

Michael's stories have been published by 108 magazines and 30 anthologies.