Consensual non-consent Stories

The metro empties me onto the street. The evening is warm, the light golden. A man is walking behind me. He has been there since the metro stairs. His footsteps are heavier than mine, and the distance between us is closing. I shift my bag and walk faster. My hand goes into my bag, finds my keys. I hold them between my fingers and walk faster. I don't turn around. I turn the corner onto our street. His footsteps turn the c...