I was walking around
the art store without my dad.
He was up at the front
talking to the manager.
I was wearing green and
I was really young.
I thought a tree would
blend in at the art store.
I could never really draw right
but I could create problems.
There was a man eyeing
me up and down.
His clothes covered in dirt.
A cigarette dripping from his mouth.
A hat that looked like it
was a shoe thrown at his head.
He had a bottle covered
in a brown paper bag.
He’d look left and right
before he’d take a swig.
He kept talking to me.
He kept asking me why won’t you answer?
I had no idea what he was saying.
He kept walking with me.
He said turn around and look at me.
I had so many questions in my mind as well.
Who punched you in the mouth!?
Can I do the same?
I couldn’t though…
I was just feeling anxious
and I felt sorry for him.
He kept winking at me.
He kept trying to get closer.
I don’t know why I waited so long
to go up to the front counter.
The cashier told him to leave.
My Dad never even noticed him leave.
Why is it so easy to create
problems in an art store?
It wasn’t me this time though!
This is why I stay in rural areas.