No! my heart screamed. Yet, not a sound escaped my lips.

I did nothing. I said nothing. I simply stared at the horizon in fear; my heart pounding in my chest. “The thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to,” as Shakespeare had written, brought me to my knees, and I wept: desperate-desolate-trembling tears.

Moments ago my life had hung by a thread. Caught amid an age-old battle of chains and swords, teeth and claws—of settling a score—time unraveled before my very eyes.. . .

No! my heart screamed. Yet, not a sound escaped my lips.

I did nothing. I said nothing. I simply stared at the horizon in fear; my heart pounding in my chest. “The thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to,” as Shakespeare had written, brought me to my knees, and I wept: desperate-desolate-trembling tears.

Moments ago my life had hung by a thread. Caught amid an age-old battle of chains and swords, teeth and claws—of settling a score—time unraveled before my very eyes.. . .

I stood frozen in front of my house. Never had it appeared so dismal. Gloom hid in every shaded crevice. All the comfort I once found in its inviting façade was gone. The flower pots on the porch resembled the haunch of a dead animal; the front door, an ominous grotto’s access; the steps, its rocky pathway. The interior’s darkness watched me through every window, while dread weighted my steps forward.

I didn’t remember entering; or emptying my pockets on t. . .

I stood frozen in front of my house. Never had it appeared so dismal. Gloom hid in every shaded crevice. All the comfort I once found in its inviting façade was gone. The flower pots on the porch resembled the haunch of a dead animal; the front door, an ominous grotto’s access; the steps, its rocky pathway. The interior’s darkness watched me through every window, while dread weighted my steps forward.

I didn’t remember entering; or emptying my pockets on t. . .