Stopped a StrangerI stopped a stranger today.
It might have been the bravest thing I've ever done. At a convenient store located just a few short blocks from my home, I stopped a stranger.
He held the door open for me as I departed with a pack of expensive cigarettes. It might have been the bravest thing I've ever done. The convenient store opened it's doors to many different colors of people. I stopped a stranger.
The man didn't seem any more harmless than the thugs living down the street from me. The kind covered in tattoos, wore used clothing from a cheap thrift store, and drove cars that lacked all respect for other drivers on the road. He held the door open for me as I departed with a pack of expensive cigarettes. I gripped them within my right hand, nervous at that very point in time when we met each other at the closed doors. His skin color was a pasty white, his hair black, his body wide but not large, and the tattoo on his forearm warned me of his nature. I stopped a stranger. It might have bee