Action!
Timmy looked up — and dove forward. That meant the chunk of bricks smashed on the alley floor, instead of smushing his head. He frantically got back up as quick as he could, watching above for another hunk. He didn’t see anything except a swaying fire escape and a flash of motion as something in red and dirty white went over the roof. Guess he didn’t want to stay and see what happened, Timmy thought. He looked down at the chunk of bricks. It had ragged edges and deep holes, like somebody had just grabbed a double handful, ripped it out of the wall, and threw it down in one hunk. It would’ve smushed him, for sure.
Timmy realized he had skinned his knee, though, and owowow that was hurting now. He must also bit something inside his mouth, because there was a little blood there — and that hurt, too, especially when he licked his lips and tasted brick dust. It still beat getting smushed — but he was confused. If what Timmy was chasing was that strong, why wasn’t it chasing him?