This is the part I hate; stripping out of these tight wet coverings and boots. I can see my reflection in the back door’s window as I watch steam billow out the unzipped gash in my yellow rain coat.

I ran pretty far this time and fell down three or four times; I can’t remember. There’s mud and blood all over me, I should have hosed off before I came in. Never mind, they haven’t found out about me yet, even after all the stupid mistakes I made when I began this strange hobby many years ago.

I snap things, I like the sound…SNAP! It started with the sound of her jean’s snap-buttons; She lost her virginity to that sound, and I lost my mind. She ran screaming and shoeless from the car; her feet breaking frozen twigs in the winters thaw.

A couple years later I started snapping photo’s, then twigs snapped while I followed lonely women jogging on lonely paths in lonely parks. My snapping noises make them run faster; I love a good chase.

My feet are bare and I’m dry and warm; Let’s see if her shoes fit.