Fear (Itself)

So. Fay tropical storm whatever outside?

Is windy.

My wall, it is a window.

The wind is talking. The land breathes.

I am suddenly conscious of sleeping directly across from a plate of glass nearly the length of my body.

I promise you these windows have not been upgraded, replaced or repaired since the house was built in 1982.

It is taking a supreme act of will not to hide facedown in the bathtub.

Srysly.

Stupid fucking hippocampus.