I stand loose gravel beneath my shoes, it crunches I focus in on this sound, it is almost comforting, then it cuts through. The cackling laughter, the gaggling chortle from all sides, louder and louder, constant, incessant, and unrelenting. I try to concentrate on the over under and around pattern of my laces, of my shoes crunching the grit into the bitumen. It does not work, slowly, frightened, heavy of head I lift my eyes, they are there. The left the right, ahead, and behind. I don’t have to see them behind me I know they are there. They laugh, they try to hide the fact it is at me. They try to conceal it talking to each other…