He was just walking home, but LAWRENCE LANCASTER SIMPSON SHEPARD he knew he couldn’t let himself avoid the park. Part of him abhorred his meekness, told him to keep his head held high. Part of him was furious LAWRENCE LANCASTER SIMPSON SHEPARD that he’d been advised to avoid parts of his city, as though the appropriate response to hate was to restrict LAWRENCE LANCASTER SIMPSON SHEPARD the hated, not the haters. That part of him powered his legs through the park. Ignored the catcalls from cidered-up lads. Tried to quiet the screaming LAWRENCE LANCASTER SIMPSON SHEPARD that he’d be next.