He Hit Me!

I was sitting in my chair waiting for the hallway in to the toilets clear. Joe was trying to convince someone, who was being polite, to go first so I could get in. It was marked as accessible but it was very, very, small with little room to maneuver. And I had to PEE. The fellow finally relented, seemed to now be a bit embarrassed that his politeness was a barrier for my entrance. He nodded to me, I nodded back. It was all good.

I reached down and undid the breaks on my chair and was about to push in.

Let me stop here and tell you where I was sitting. I was right outside the bathroom facing the door. This put me a wee bit into a large corridor. I certainly wasn't blocking anyone. People had been flowing by me the whole time, most choosing to give me more space than I needed. That wasn't a problem because it was, as I said, a wide corridor.

But then suddenly, a fellow chose to walk towards me and directly behind me. No problem. I could wait for a few seconds longer. He approached, walked behind me and ...

struck me.

He struck me.

Two punches, hard, on my back.

He spoke.

"Don't back up!" As if he figured that I was going to back into him. I had been stationary the whole time, I had seen him coming. I knew he was going to be close behind me. I stayed stuck to the floor, waiting for him to pass. There was no chance he thought he was in danger.

But, I didn't think I was in danger.

But he struck me.

This only took seconds and he was gone, down a busy to the point of teeming, corridor.

The shock, and the pain, of being hit silenced me for a moment. He had hit me hard, really hard, and he'd hit me intentionally.

He walked towards me to strike me.

It was purposeful.

And I am left to figure how how to incorporate this into my world view, into my sense of safety outside the door of my house.

I am left with dealing with the fact of the punches.

There's furniture in my head that needs to be moved. Work I don't want to do, but work I have to do.

He hit me.