The old woman dropped her purse, spilling its contents all over the sidewalk. He rushed ahead to help her stopping short when he saw the gun under the purse. At first he was scared, wondering what a woman of her age should want to do with such an instrument. But then he looked in her eyes with a sixth sense of judgement and saw the pains beneath her delicate frame. And almost instantly it seemed he could see a blurry vision of her personality flashing before him. Unnerved, yet with a thoughtful reservation, many questions came rushing through his mind: "Who is this old woman? What is she up to? How did her purse fall off? What if it was all a setup?"

Fazed by the awkward scenario, the young man managed to put up a calm facade. Yet his mind kept racing restlessly to connect the congeries of thoughts being conjured. But it seems he could not come up with a definite answer, so, he hesisantly helped her to pack all the spilled contents except for the gun. For if there's any lesson life had taught him, it's to never trust anyone, not even his own shadows. So, left with no choice the old woman bent down and picked the cold metal, whilst he managed to give her a wry smile. Knowing that many a man could have walked past and looked the other way, she returned his smile and thanked him for his chivalry.

Back on their feet, straight into the opposite roads they walked and didn't look back-- both wondering if what just happened was real or a dream!

#WritcoStoryPrompt7

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