Bad day, and I'm in no mood to be around people, but a guy approaches me in front of the grocery store and asks if I want his religious brochure. I tell him I don't and he asks why not, sticking his brochure in my path.

"Get away from me," I yell at him and keep going.

"That kind of anger is bad for your heart," he says, a tone of getting even in his voice.

I step toward him. "What's inside my chest has got nothing to do with you."

He moves away, I follow, and seeing me follow him he stops. He stands his ground but leans back.

"Let me see one of those things."

He puts a brochure in my hand, and I look it over, flipping past the man on the front extending his open arms. I give the brochure back and stare at him, a young man with a face that doesn't look lived in, white shirt, thin black tie.

"Do you have any idea what's inside people?" I ask. "Who are you anyway?"

He wants to get inside me, why shouldn't I find out who's making the attempt? Maybe he was beaten and abandoned as a child. If he does know what's inside people, I'm listening. But his face shows no sign of a story and apparently no words have any plan of coming out of his mouth.

I wave him down the sidewalk, and he starts off, clutching his brochures and glancing back. What does he see when he looks at me? I follow his steps with my eyes.