Today, he fears God. The powerful smirk in the new moon. The semi that did not see him this morning and nearly crushed him into another truck. The crying of his cats as he left the apartment, as if they were screaming don't go, don't go. He fears Karma, that he thought had been on his side. The dark stones encircling nothing. The coming cold. His coworker's duplicity. He fears sleeping alone. Awaking alone. Exisitng, alone.

He does not fear bombs. He does not fear flying. He does not fear high speed and his brakes that seem to be slipping. He does not fear fire, or infestation, or cancer.

He fears the mirror: He sees him, and he knows what he does best is fail.

He fears that he hates him; and in the mirror, there is nowhere left to go...but out of the picture.

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