It sounded as if someone were opening a giant door in the wall of night itself and stepping in from another world.
Her heart raced and her dry mouth was filled with the slightly metallic taste of feverish anxiety. Her breathing turned to gasps as she teetered on the brink of quiet hysteria. Tears choking into her throat. She slipped back into delirium.
Then all at once there was silence; the memory ended as abruptly as it had started, leaving behind the black bottomless pit of the unknown. Though her head had begun to pound, she concentrated with all her might to recreate the segment of reality but it eluded her like that of a fleeting dream one tries desperately to hold onto to dissect and decode. Tears fell along her cheeks as she fought to hold back a desolate sadness.
It’s said that our minds can process fifty thousand thoughts a day. I’ve no idea if this is true, or how thoughts can be counted, but I do know that trying to pre-guess events within a knowledge vacuum creates intolerable anxiety. It doesn’t matter how many times you tell yourself “no news” is “good news,” your brain will always assume the worst. And in the end your instinct goes with what you know to be true.
Some debts can only be repaid with loyalty.