It’s always at night. Despite the day, the rumblings of doubt amble on and on. But, at night, those rumblings roar.
Angola, Egypt, Somalia, Kenya, Botswana.
My stomach opens wide, filling with adrenaline. As though I injected myself with pure caffeine, but I’m still surprised.
Russia, Estonia, Albania, Slovenia, Slovakia, Poland, Spain, France.
My hands shiver. My body needs to get all this slimy energy out, but in the moment I can never remember to find something to do with my hands. My mind paces frantically, reminding me that we are so clearly in danger.
Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates, Kuwait, Iraq, Iran, Pakistan, Bangladesh.
Except, the danger is as invisible as it is nefarious. Only I can see it. Its my clever shadow that everyone tells me is not really there.
Ecuador, Costa Rica, Panama, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Chile, Bolivia.
Adrenaline becomes panic and cortisol pushes itself through my blood stream. My skin is covered in sweat made of fear.
China, Japan, Thailand, Indonesia, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos.
I push my brain to think of countries and say them into the thick air around my fission. Tapping a tennis ball to a constant beat. Grounding, grounding, grounding. Tap, tap, tap. Constant. Constant.
A battle with quicksand.