I didn’t realize how much I loved fear. How like a murderer it is, killing off all those other insipid feelings that hide behind veneers of propriety.
I didn’t know how much I loved cleaning my gutters. Placing the precarious ladder, each step a lesson in acrobatics.
Scooping the pungent loamy leaves loose, fear hammering out heart punching adrenal smoke signals, spyglasses and Sherlock Holmes hats that delve into hidden haunts of childhood angst.
I didn’t know how much I loved the fear of running down abandoned trails, spider webs clinging to my face arms flailing madly.
I didn’t realize how much I loved fear until the hair on my arms raised up like corpsi from tiny graves and kissed the cold spinning sky.