Footsteps. Coming closer. In the corridor outside. Oh, no, please no! My deepest fear made manifest, I dare not look over my shoulder, even as I hear the ominous sound reach the door, I hope against hope that it will go away, leave me inviolate. But, no! The door handle turns, the wooden barrier between me and my nightmare breaks down, gapes like a ravenous mouth, ready to swallow me whole. Then the sound, above all else, I'd been dreading, the horror I have no means of coping with, drowning me in despair.
"Good morning," my new neighbour said as he walked into the kitchen.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Too much sensitivity, too much irrational fear. Reality is most usually more calm and less frightening than imagination.
ReplyDeleteHello Brian
ReplyDeleteThere's quite a lot of literary license here, but I do tend to the 'social-phobic' sometimes. Not so much that I can't deal with everyday life, though.
Love & best wishes
Sammy B