Joanne used her intuition every day, and felt she was good at her job. She wasn’t entirely sure why one person presenting their passports or visas would draw her suspicion more than another, except for the very obvious signs, like sweating and extreme nervousness. Perhaps it was just her years of experience. When she sent someone back for more questioning she was always pretty certain they had something to hide. Not from her, not always, but most times. Even if they were released to catch their flight with no further bother, Joanne just knew they had something to hide.
But when the pleasant young man helped her when her grocery bag broke on the stairs to her apartment, her intuition told her to send him away. A few minutes later, when he cheerfully insisted he bring the groceries bags directly into her apartment and her kitchen, alarm bells chimed.
But, she told herself, she didn’t want to be one of those people who suspects everyone. Surely he doesn’t mean any harm. I’m being paranoid. She didn’t listen to her intuition.
That’s why she was at the hospital now, having been sexually assaulted and almost killed, being prodded with swabs and questioned by police officers whom, she thought, could be a little more patient with her.
Intuition is not a superstition, or a super-human, rare talent, or something whose warnings should callously be discarded in favour of logic and persuasion.
Trust your intuition.
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