But... "What do I say? I'm not the pick-up line kinda guy." "Just tell her you think she's beautiful, we both know that much is true. Hurry up man, ...he's getting away!" "Okay. Okay. Okay," I stammered. I quickly strode toward the door, made the left outside, and saw her blonde head bob down the Manhattan avenue. I chased after her, making easy time since she wasn't in any hurry it seemed. The street was packed with people. Dodging other pedestrians was harder on a busy sidewalk, but. Only mumbles and snatches of letters escape all that upset."It's going to be okay, love. I'll get you an ambulance. Where's yourMum and Dad? Are they close, are they hurt too?" Hurts," she says, gulping down a sob. I'm close enough now to see theswelling disfiguring her right ankle. She's torn her tights over theinjury, blood wells from a slash in her dark skin. Dusty soil coats hersensible shoes, grass seeds have snagged in her skirt; like she'd beenin a hedge bottom.Now I've got a problem. More

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