A
Two blocks. Two very, very long blocks beyond in deep darkness. It is 1953, and I have walked these blocks many times on my way to the room I rent off campus. I get off the bus after leaving the library at ten o’clock in the evening holding books in my arms, with a purse hanging from a strap（肩带） on my shoulder.
My landlady works the night shift at the hospital, so at this hour, the house will be as dark and blank as the others on this street. Everything is quiet and closed. Far ahead is a streetlight. I am thinking about a paper due in a few days. What theme should I explore? Will the professor admire or dismiss it? Why are we reading Dreiser anyway?
I notice headlights coming toward me. A car is driving slowly down the street on the other side. As it passes, I glance at the driver—male, blond. I keep walking. The car slows down and stops. I hear its door slam shut. A few seconds later, I hear footsteps behind me. I keep walking; I do not speed up, because I don’t want to call attention to myself. The walker may be going to a house nearby, visiting a friend. Besides, what would be the point of hurrying, running?
I still have to get my door key from my purse. When I reach my house, I will have to walk upstairs to the porch（走廊）, and fumble in the dark for my key. Then he will climb the steps behind me, put his right hand over my mouth, knock me down on the porch floor, scattering my books and the contents of my purse. There is no one to see. He will hold me down with one hand squeezing my throat, search my body for any valuables with the other, and say, “Don’t fight me; don’t fight.”
I am exhausted. The scene I have imagined is detailed, brutal, and unbearable. I cannot live through what I expect.
I stop.I turn around and wait for him. I wait and wait until he catches up to where I stand, with nothing to defend myself but the urgency to escape not what might happen but what has already happened in my mind.
He comes close, closer. I can see his eyes (or I think I can).
“Will you please leave me alone.” It is neither a question nor a scream. My voice is low, conversational. Nothing can be worse than what I have imagined.
He pauses. “I’m not going to bother you,” he whispers, then turns around and walks back to his car.
21. What is on the author’s mind before she notices the car?
A. The long way home. B. The dark and blank street.
C. Her landlady’s absence. D. The theme of her paper.
22. The underlined word “fumble” is closest to ___________ in meaning.
A. reach B. search C. find D. touch
23. Why does the author turn around and wait for the man?
A. She tries to escape what has happened in her mind.
B. She wants to ask him whether he will leave her alone.
C. She knows she will be safe after talking with him.
D. She is so terrified of what is going to happen later.
