comfort in fear | saturday prose

comfort in the nothingness piece


It is in the sleepiness of stillness in the unwinding of the night, that we are most perceptible to the shattering reality of discomfort.


Footsteps drag themselves through leaves outside my window, and rather than only drawing nearer, they move in some languid orbit. It is in this moment I can feel my heart so intensely that my ears grow warm, my tongue swells thick. It is in this moment I realize how perfectly my right leg fits on top of my left under the heat of bed sheets, as I myself am both perfectly made and perfectly afraid. I am comfortable feeling this discomfort, so I waste time waiting for the footsteps to stop. Stupor of sleep, stupor of sleep…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s