Fear

In the middle of the night I walked down the wet, black pavement of Lombardi street to the chaos down below. When the bombs fell, no one knew the name of the enemy. They didn't know his agenda. The knew nothing, in fact, but the gnawing, screeching, frantic rodent in their chests ― fear. Fear is an unstable thing in the heart of a man. He'll jump through a hoop of fire to get away from it, to get out of it. A man would dig and claw at his own chest to pull it out. Like a polar bear on drift ice, he would brave the deep, but only after he's far enough from solid ground to be afraid.

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, USA
26 September 2010




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