Murder Swamp and Other Safety Concerns
I'll be the first one to admit that I consume too many movies and TV shows; it shows up when I can point out whodunnit in the first ten minutes, when the plot twist seems obvious from miles away, and when I find myself more invested in the love lives of fictional people than I am in my quest for clean laundry. It also means that a specific set of shows I watch -- British crime dramas: Luther, Broadchurch, etc. -- can send up red flags in my real life...
What I mean to say is: if I ever disappear, my body will be in the Murder Swamp, guaranteed.
Like many planned neighborhoods, my residential area has a series of small retention basins designed to control the flow of natural water. The ones I run past have a path-like ridge in the middle with various reeds and long grasses along the sides, with a white fence separating it from the sidewalk. It's all very pretty and pastoral and the water is definitely deep enough to hide a body for swifter decomposition.
SEE?! It's disconcerting, the way the fear creeps in! But we live in a time when women are held responsible for breaches in their personal safety ("hmm, what was she wearing when she was attacked?") and my pre-run mental list of health and wellness checks is a lot shorter than the one containing anti-attack precautions. Every detail of the timing, the route, the outfit, the accessories is carefully crafted to minimize my vulnerability as a potential target -- and there's no guarantee any of it will do any good. And don't get me started on people walking dogs... that's an whole nother thing.
I'm not going to stop watching, in life or on the screen.
But maybe I'll double-down on the Great British Bakeoff.
What I mean to say is: if I ever disappear, my body will be in the Murder Swamp, guaranteed.
Like many planned neighborhoods, my residential area has a series of small retention basins designed to control the flow of natural water. The ones I run past have a path-like ridge in the middle with various reeds and long grasses along the sides, with a white fence separating it from the sidewalk. It's all very pretty and pastoral and the water is definitely deep enough to hide a body for swifter decomposition.
SEE?! It's disconcerting, the way the fear creeps in! But we live in a time when women are held responsible for breaches in their personal safety ("hmm, what was she wearing when she was attacked?") and my pre-run mental list of health and wellness checks is a lot shorter than the one containing anti-attack precautions. Every detail of the timing, the route, the outfit, the accessories is carefully crafted to minimize my vulnerability as a potential target -- and there's no guarantee any of it will do any good. And don't get me started on people walking dogs... that's an whole nother thing.
I'm not going to stop watching, in life or on the screen.
But maybe I'll double-down on the Great British Bakeoff.
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