Footed

I stared at the droplets streaking down the PSVs glass while I processed what I had just seen. While dodging puddles, the feet. Crew cut. Stud. A working watch. No qualms.

When the PSV paused, I looked out the loading door. And saw the feet. Strips off different clothes. Blacks and whites turned brown. At ease.

The PSV snapped me forward and its door shut.