Leaning forward over the sidewalk, my nails clawing at the rotted underside of the bench, I aimlessly watched the mass of yellow cabs and black suits rush past me. The man beside me rustled his newspaper and I broke out of my trance. My gaze lingered over the front cover: JOKER AT LARGE.
A simple picture of the man in the purple coat and green vest grinned back at me with scars wide. The clown of terror, a psychotic serial killer, now on the loose in Gotham. Something was running through my veins. It felt much like fear...but more. Adrenaline. Pulsing through me, willing me to get up and run.
So I did.
I pushed myself off the bench and sprinted away, fast. Direction became lost to me, I was just running. My heart drummed an irregular beat in my chest. There was no pain, just a sense of freedom. People tutted and sighed at me as I whizzed passed, but I felt no need to apologise. In a city of millions, a flash of brown hair means nothing to anyone, not really.
When I finally stopped,...