To a startling and terrifying extent, I think about home invasions. I think about deer turning mean and deadly. I think about being run down by a bike, a car, a bus, a train. I fear running over the Holocaust survivor who jogs by my house every morning at 5:20. I fear squirrels when they stop chewing and take you in their sights. I fear people have died when they are late to meet me. Or that when they show, I won’t recognize them. I fear that a bitchy email goes astray. I fear that people can read my mind. I fear my mind and the sink holes it seeks. I fear that I will always live in this body or never appreciate it. That I will fall out of a helicopter. That I will be decapitated by her blades. That too many people will want to speak at my funeral and it will go on too long and that is all that anyone will remember instead of all the wonderful poems and songs and tributes to a person who lined her casket with bad jokes and Playbills from every show she’s ever seen.
What do you fear?
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