Charlie at Twelve O'Clock

You spot something out of the corner of your eye. A flash of colour, a shrill voice, in any other context benign, today spells danger. Real danger. This could get ugly. You know what needs to be done. Stooping a little you slowly begin to veer away from the menace. If you can just stay out of their line of sight you might get lucky. Something might distract them. You could make a dash for safety. A sense of imminent doom permeates your very being. Past experience dictates that this is going to end horribly. You've been spotted. It's time to move, and move you do. Your step quickens, pack beating against your back to the rhythm of your step. You stumble, recover, he's moving in on you.

Suddenly you swerve, changing course in the hope of throwing him off. Momentarily taken aback by such a bold move the enemy reassesses before plotting a new course to cut you off at the pass. This isn't going well, you knew you shouldn't have taken such an obvious route, what a fool you've been! For the sake of saving a couple of minutes you've exposed yourself. Cold, vulnerable, out in the open, waiting to be picked off like a lame antelope.

'Not today', you resolve.
'You can get me tomorrow, but today is my day.'

Courage is a strange beast. It seems to desert us at the most irritating moments. When you're about to unleash your skateboard down a four metre high ramp, or put your hand up for a penalty kick, or talk to that beautiful young something at the bar. But when courage is truly called for, that's when the men are sorted from the boys. Your courage doesn't desert you today.

You change direction, feigning a direct retreat before spinning 180 degrees to charge the foe head on. Darting left and right and left again you know you have him confused. This is it, the moment of truth. At the instant of impact you pirouette past your adversary and make your dash to freedom. All the defeated combatant can do is stare in disbelief as you make your getaway.

Emboldened by your stunning victory you charge gleefully on, drunk on triumph, entirely assured of you own greatness. Today is your day and life is looking up. It'll be cigars and margaritas tonight baby.

Then you hear it. You should have known he'd call for reinforcements, how could you be so reckless? Words to send chills down the spine of any urban warrior. A friendly hand cast menacingly toward you.

"Hello, have you got a minute to spare for homeless diabetic whale cancer research?" Clutching protectively at the wallet containing your credit card you think, "this really is the last time I walk through Martin Place at lunch..."