The air here is stale, I realize.
Walking between to crummy-looking buildings in an ally, there are several beat-up trashcans lining the walls, and I think I hear a cat hiss somewhere behind me. Trying to get to the dock through this little shortcut, I suddenly hear quiet, almost non-existent footsteps echoing about 15 yards behind me. I speed up, trying not to make it too obvious, but unable to contain the fear that is starting to bud in my chest. Glancing backward, I see a dark shape, one of a man, and think that he wants my purse. I have several hundred dollars in my wallet, however, because I’m planning on going shopping, so I don’t want to drop my purse and run. Quickening my pace still faster, I feel my heart drop into my stomach as it suddenly occurs to me that the man might want more than money. By this time I can see that the dock is only 20 feet away, so I break into a run. No longer bothering to try to keep quiet, my attacker sprints after me. And then I notice he’s quite fast.
Faster than me.