At last. At last the words may flow. Gray and imposing, the edge recedes from the shore. Fear is still present and danger
has yet to pass, but it is a manageable fear and
danger is a relative thing. Reason and light flow as
scented water before my mind. Garbled, incoherent,
words of panic escape, and I smile; nothing is going
to harm me. I am safe. In the fabric of my life, in
the furnace of my fire, I go gentle into night and
fear not the approaching hand of debt. The Lord is a shepherd, who shall not want, as lions lay down with lambs. Is it enough
to break against the rocks... as conquering Hero leaves the room.