Yesterday on my way to work I "caught a rabbit," to use the Polish expression.
I panicked when someone rushed towards me while crossing 46th Street. He had a deer-in- the-headlights look, which I took to mean that a car was coming fast. I broke into a run and tripped on the curb, or on the rain, I don't know. I fell on my knees and hands. An apple fell out of my bag and rolled down the sidewalk, red and fleeing. A stranger followed it, and when he returned it to me, I fell apart.
Today a stranger shook hands with his friend over the threshold of the elevator, and then apologized for holding me up. "My time is not that precious," I assured him cheerfully. "Neither is mine," he agreed.
My body feels like an old-school mousetrap that has sprung.