See Naples and Die | Jorn Straten

My lungs were pumping while I was running through the narrow streets of Naples. A middle aged man dressed in a black hoodie chased me after we had bumped together at a street corner. I had told him I was sorry for that and had continued my walk through Spaccanapoli. But from a distance he had begun shouting at me in an incomprehensible dialect. He had held something I couldn’t recognize up in the air and he had pointed at me with it. People around him had tried to calm him while he was shouting at me. I had begun to walk faster. A peek above my shoulder revealed that he had started to follow me. My walking accelerated to running. He was shouting loudly behind me. Perhaps he didn’t accept my excuse after having bumped together……

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