A year later, I moved from Edmondson Village to Harwood. Life was close by. In the county, I could hide my body. People only saw me when I got out to pump gas or was in line at the store. I walked to the grocery store, to the train, to the bar, and to school. I was no longer cemented to a car, but I was a pedestrian. (I'm thankful for corner stores, though. In Owings Mills, late-night chips and juice are two miles away). The nature of being a pedestrian in Baltimore City means that you are always visible. Being a woman in Baltimore City means that not only are you always seen, but you are always seen as available.