day 25: possum

Even as a child, I understood that prey always tastes sweeter with the fear in its veins, and so would never give the monsters under my bed or creeping down the hallway the satisfaction of surprise--
I kept my eyes shut.

Many frights closer to the homing skeleton in our days, our nearing middle days, take no corporeal shape.
Sometimes they are us, each other.

So I get it.

But a cold shoulder was never the quickest way out.