Paranoia

I tried to walk out of the liquor store as fast as I could without raising any suspicion. I was in the back of the store, several aisles away from the double sliding doors: the doors that led to relief. Beads of sweat slowly appeared on my forehead as I began to think about my path out of the store. After carefully mapping out my escape route, I give a small sigh. It was more of a shudder than a sigh. I began to move my legs. My knees felt weak from the thought of moving. I began to pass the beer refrigerators in the back and make my way to the front. My breathing became harder. It was very cold. Everything is going in slow motion. Every step I take feels like an hour has gone by. I pass a couple customers that seem to bore a whole in

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