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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2217602-Introvert
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by Jacky Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2217602
Flash Fiction
Introvert

I’m an introvert, I like being alone. I also like the dark. People can’t see me in the dark so they can’t talk to me or try to involve me in things. I can get from place to place easily, quietly, alone.

I see things too. Sometimes things other people are trying to hide. Usually I let them go, none of my business. But I don’t like people being mean and sneaky. Sneaky is OK, mean, that’s wrong.

I was following this guy. Not following, following. Just he was in front of me and we were going in the same direction, following. We were going by a part of town where they have a soup kitchen that opened every day. There was a donation box for clothes and shoes out front.

The guy was eating something out of a paper bag, some take-out food. As he walked by the donation box, he must have finished, and he glanced around quickly. Then he crumpled up his bag of trash and stuffed it in the donation box! His trash!

He didn’t see me, of course. I was directly behind him but, as I saw him turn, thinking it looked suspicious, I ducked into a doorway. But I was mad. How dare he!

When I came up behind him, he did jump, but too late. I had a very large pipe in my hand.

I said “Tossing trash in a collection box is nasty, don’t do it again!” just before I caught him in the stomach with the pipe. He went down, the food came back up, but I was gone before the guy got back up.

Some people think that introverts are quiet, simple people but, you know, we can have some depth.
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