THE MAN WITH THE GRIN

The night was cool
The sun went down
I was alone
No one around.

I sat near the water
The tide came in
I was approached
By a man with a grin.

I looked concerned,
I looked around
Most everyone
Had gone to town.

There was a fair
It came every year
Was he a Carni?
Why was he here?

His hands looked grimy
He looked unkempt
His hair was greasy
His clothes looked damp.

What did he want?
I thought to myself
Would anyone hear me
If I called out for help?

β€œYou live nearby”?
He boldly asked
I said not far,
And, then he laughed.

“Can I sit down?
I’d love to talk”
I was afraid
Too scared to balk.

He worked the snack bar
Worked at the fair
I wasn’t interested
I didn’t care.

Tried not to show him
I was afraid
Give him a reason
To use his blade.

I saw the knife
Tucked in his pants
I quickly noted
In just a glance.

He was a young man
Maybe thirty
He hadn’t bathed
He smelled quite dirty.

Was he homeless?
A wandering bum?
Where did he live?
Where was he from?

At my insistence
I called it a night
He stayed behind
I hoped till light.

He didn’t follow
He let me be
I walked away
So carefully.

___________________________

Image from Google Images: shutterstock.com

Author: Patty Richardson

Writer: Film scripts, poetry, short stories.

8 thoughts on “THE MAN WITH THE GRIN”

    1. He could have been carrying the knife for his own protection. Some guys just like to carry a knife. Makes them feel macho! Or….he could have been a bad guy, but for some reason decided not to hurt her. It’s all left to your imagination. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  1. It’s funny how we judge people… We’re so afraid, and with reason…the bad things that happen are announced every day…While the good or uneventful are never heard. We never hear about these encounters….The ones where nothing bad happens. I really like this!

    Liked by 1 person

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