A response to Deb Markanton's "Saturday Tripping" in Flashy Fiction.
"Jude, I don't like the looks of this neighborhood," said Adrienne.
"Don't worry about it, all of the guides say the old town is safe. Look at that," said Jude as he pointed at some green leaves that peaked out between buildings, "a little bit of nature."
"It looks sickly --" Adrienne stopped speaking as a man, his eyes hidden by a hooded sweatshirt, stepped out of an alley. He stared at them as he passed and Adrienne held her breath listening to ensure she heard his steps recede. "I don't like it here, let's go back to the street with the boutiques."
Adrienne stopped and stared at an old brick and cement building with red stenciled letters. Jude broke her grasp on his arm and strode towards the building. "It's just graffiti," said Adrienne. "There is no one here."
"Yes, no one..." Jude strode to stand under a painting of a man in a black sweatshirt with his head obscured by a black hat and Jude turned to look at Adrienne with his head right under the painted man's hands which had been raised like a pyramid. "But this building, it's been here a long time."
Adrienne looked over her shoulder to see whether anyone else was on the street. She ran to stand before Jude. "You are talking nonsense."
"No. There's a park a couple blocks over and a hole-in-the-wall pizza restaurant. You hungry?"