Mostly afraid

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You are mostly afraid.

What appears to be solid and trustworthy, just isn’t.  Again.

The world is adrift.  Kicked hard and off-balance,  trembling and reeling. The air shaky like summer heat on pavement,  the unseen static of fear.

“It will be all right.  It will be all right.”

You yearn for a mother’s arms.  To assure you that the nightmare you-can’t-quite-shake the-image-of, will go away soon.

Her  breath, soft above you.
Her skin, warm aside your cheek
Her blood thrumming a steady, strong seashell sound inside your ear

And you are comforted.   For a time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Mostly afraid

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