Fear

There is a fear tonight, which keeps me awake. But it isn't the familiar ghost behind doors that haunts me. This fear is neither a fear for life, which prompts action, nor a fear of death, which inhibits action. This fear is a fear of the inevitable, like a dread of the sunset.

It is a dull fear, one that causes the base of my spine to throb. My heart to beat quick yet drawn out, my lungs to breathe nitrogen. And so I wait, while my medulla oblongata is totally occupied with this fear, and I feel so concious of my life support actions. I wait for the inevitable.