crossing borders

Try one toe first.
Stop traffic. Cross street.
In New York that is.
Cars are hard. People soft.
Lawyers aplenty.
But this is HK.
The street is empty.
Still early.
I hesitate.
This must be a trap.
There must be something lurking somewhere out there.
Invisible to me. The dead spot.
Behind the temples.

Out for lunch I zig zag between trams, taxis, Bentleys and Mercs, bicycles, buses, minibuses,
and ladies too old to fear the other side.
But this is not lunch hour. It's too early. It's before breakfast.
I'm not used to this.
Traffic that moves is predictable.
Cars don't suddenly throw themselves sideways.
Trams stay on their tracks.

I'm getting nervous.
Maybe I should wait until I spot a car or something.
So I'd know what to avoid.
Know from where the attack will come.
That's good advice when crossing borders and streets.