Talking to Stangers

It’s happening. That moment of sheer panic. My heart is racing, the walls are closing in, I’m feeling faint. A stranger has approached me. “Please, please, please don’t talk to me,” I silently say to myself. I look everywhere but at them in hopes that maybe they’ll just walk right past me. No luck. They’re in front of me, their mouth is moving and words are spewing out. It takes me a minute to comprehend while the waves of panic crash to shore. “Do you know where George Washington Hall is?” The panic is back.