“The Man Who Counted Exits”

He walked into every room and counted the exits.
Two in the lobby.
One in the hallway.
Three in the cafeteria.
A caseworker whispered, “He’s paranoid.”
But the people who lived outside knew better.
When you’ve been robbed in your sleep, you count exits.
When you’ve been jumped in a doorway, you count exits.
When you’ve had to run for your life, you count exits.
He wasn’t afraid of people.
He was afraid of being trapped.
One day a therapist finally asked, “When did you start doing that?”
He answered, “The night someone blocked the only way out.”
It wasn’t paranoia.
It was memory.
By the Street Sentinel
