Anxiety

The trickle of worry confirmed the small tug i felt earlier, walking through the village. More than the usual staring from the women along the block and idarted my eyes around behind my boggle-framed sunglasses to find the source but nothing stood out.

I saw leaves move, heard the brittle crunch of forest twigs; i knew he was there.
A small tug inside and a scatching at the back of the neck.
War, digging trenches, question marks abound.