Darker Cities

"Girl," says a voice to my right, stopping me in my tracks. I don't turn my head.

"They tell me I can't run," the man says, and I know who's speaking. He's a man who lost feeling in both his legs, his dark skin covered in wrinkles from chin up, more than an average man his age would have.

"I believe them sometimes. You can run, girl." He says, barely drawing attention from the surrounding people. I pull my hood over my head, and continue my stroll.

"I've tried."