Friday, October 2, 2009

100 Words About: Fear

I'm feeling poetic this morning. ;)

Perhaps what you notice first is tension in your shoulders, your neck, that comes along with a feeling of not-quite-rightness. You pause, maybe hold your breath for a moment and listen. That tension grows, tendrils of cold that climb and creep up your scalp, that wrap around your spine and slow you down. In the silence of your held breath your pulse throbs in your ears, but that paralyzing cold tap-dances into your veins and makes your blood run sluggish even as your heart pounds. The knot of your stomach sits high under your diaphragm. When you finally remember to breathe, the air stutters and gutters like a dying candle. Run.

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