The perspiration gathers on my lip, and runs between my breasts and my tank top is clinging to my back; all as I am on the fourth step riser leading to the confusion that waits. All my lists are in my black messenger bag, I've check-listed its contents three times; maps, GPS for the iPhone entered, my weapons, a bit of makeup I still keep from my modeling days. I've kept the small purple bottle of the scent we both wore for a short time, though there's an antique jewel and Georgian enamel and pearl stoppered one of the same size with the new parfum I've chosen to entertain my, and perhaps another's, nose. My steel and image covered cigarette case and wallet, passport and bundle of currency at the ready, the illegal length spring knife, gun and two extra clips, stun phone and steel knuckles all safe and handily kept within. It's a load on the shoulder, but I switch sides often; building combat strength always in anticipation of the world's collapse. The car waits.
© Amanda 2012
'Travel' the eyes speak