Quick. They’re coming.

I don’t have much time. They’ll be here any moment. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

My house is now a wreck, and it’s about to get worse. The door’s so misshapen I can’t even keep it closed. There’s no way to keep them out. I knew it would end, but not so soon.

You never think it’s going to end like this. When they first leave, you figure you have all the time in the world to do whatever you want. You take your time; you don’t rush. There’s no sense of urgency, no matter how desperate the actual situation.

As time passes, the feeling starts to creep up on you. The paranoia. If your timing is wrong, you’re caught. All is lost. Everything you’ve worked so hard for. Everything that means anything to you. Life. Life is lost, for what kind of life is left to you once they return? Once you are back under that yolk.

Why am I still here? Why did I tarry? Why did I risk and lose it all?

There are only seconds…until the cows come home.

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