Some kind of invasion of private space.


Walking back from Chinatown eating the best orange I’ve ever had, a shifty looking man walking towards me was staring at me. I looked away so as not to keep his gaze until we crossed paths. Looking in the opposite direction, I didn’t notice how close to me he’d got, when in my ear came a soft and slightly ominous monotone of “Hey, you’re talking to yourself“.
Shocked, I held back the urge to do a double take as he shouted to me while walking away. Did that really happen? How did he know I was talking to myself? Was I talking to myself?
By the time his shouts died down and I’d turned around to see, he had disappeared.


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