Run.

That word repeats over and over in my head as I race down the street. The sirens behind me get closer, and in desperation I duck into an alley. I dodge trash cans and slosh through dark puddles, but come up against a fence. Higher than I can climb, with barbed wire strung on top, I realize that it is insurmountable. In short, I am trapped.

"Quick, in here."

I barely hear the voice over the blood rushing in my ears. When it persists, I turn and see a shadowy form in an alcove to my right. I am wary, but I hear the sirens approaching so I hurry to the form and follow it into the doorway.

As I hear the soft shutting of the door behind me, I look around, trying to get my bearings in the dimness. A single bulb gives sparse lighting to the room, but my eyes have adjusted enough now to make out the plastered walls, covered in an assortment of odd paintings and shelves of preserves.

I turn to face my benefactor. She steps into the light and I let out my breath. This woman, though dressed in tatters, is beautiful. Her soft, dark hair is held under a threadbare scarf, but a few curls escape, tumbling around her face and bringing attention to her large brown eyes, filled with a nervousness I attribute to my being here. Without a word, she walks toward a door on the other side of the room, her graceful figure moving silently across the floor. She beckons me and glides up a set of stairs hidden in the shadows. Does she remember me? I wonder as I follow her to the roof, where she looks over the edge of the building then hurriedly comes over to me. She takes my hand, sending a shock of electricity through me, and shows me how to escape onto the adjoining building.

"Goodbye," she whispers, and plants a kiss on cheek. I follow her directions and am soon out of harm's way. Only then do I look back, to find her silhouetted against the moonlit sky. I'm just a stranger to her, I think. I gaze at her for a moment longer, then turn and continue my flight.

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I watch him run into the alley, not knowing it's a dead end. I am already at the door when he reaches the chain link fence, can read the panic in his movements.

"Quick, in here," I say in a low voice, but I have to repeat myself before he hears me. As I shut the door behind us, I watch him try to get his bearings.

His dark blue eyes, intelligent but worried, scan the room, while he runs his hand distractedly through his tousled blond hair. Though he was in a sprint coming into the alley, he shows no signs of fatigue in his strong, muscles limbs. He doesn't remember me. I think, and I signal him to follow me up the stairs. When we were are on the roof, I check to see if the police have followed into the alley below. Then I show him how to safely cross between the buildings, give him a kiss on the cheek and say goodbye. I watch to make sure he gets away, and notice him looking back at me. I'm just a stranger to him, I think. Even after he has fled I stay on the roof, lost in thought.