He passed by on the left. Within a foot of me. I never heard his bike tires. There was no need to pass me that close. He deliberately crossed into my space. I could smell his breath. It was 2:00 am. There was no one else on the planet as I was lost in the usual, “revenge in a small room” scenario I go through nightly.

When I felt him, my heart stopped. Shock. I tingled all over. He wanted to put fear in me. I have enough fear in me.

Then… the rage came. I screamed obscenities as I unhooked my fanny pack and started to run after him. He stopped up ahead and dismounted.

I scaled him against his bike and quickly knew he was bigger. I didn’t care.

I just wanted to pound his flesh.

The closer I got, the better I felt. I’m gonna kill this motherfucker. I need release. For some reason, he thought better of it and mounted up. In my insanity, I thought I could catch him. It was not to be.

As I stood there empty handed, in the middle of that dark lonely road, I dropped my hands and wept. I would get no release this night. I have such rage. I need to get better. I’m not better…yet.