Monday morning, beginning of the work week as I wheeled into the parking structure next to the newspaper, where I work. As usual, with satchel hanging from my left shoulder, I walked lost in thought towards the entrance I’d jus’ passed through.
Her low, square heels made a soft tap, tap, tap as she walked behind me. I knew from the sound that she’d overtake me before I rounded the corner.
As she began to pass me, I felt a sudden sting. She had poked me with a needle in my leg led, below my butt-cheek.
“Hey!” I shouted.
She did not look back at me as I stopped to rub the spot from where the pain emanated. I figured that I could distinguish the elderly woman from other women because of the bright red hat she wore.
Continuing my path towards the office, I picked up my pace, determined to call the police as soon as I made it to my desk. As I rounded the corner I was met with a sea of red-hatted women.
The sight made my head spin wildly, my heart race uncontrollably and then growing sweaty and clammy, my throat fill with bloody vomit.
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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