1049

You look before you leap. You’re the understatement of the year, and for that you should get an award, or at least the honorable mention that never existed. You take a step back, because the erratic beating of what you’ve come to know as your heart tells you that you are scared. Scared of not just the uncertain, but strangely to a greater extent, the certainty that there will be change. You’ve been taught to believe change is bad, safety is vital. But your face refuses to show any trace of cowardice, you force the placid contortion on each muscle that might give away your secret. Everything that surrounds seems to have gone into a stalemate with you, watching your every move as though the many rows of belligerent chairs had eyes which lacked the mercy you seeked. The floodlights of the stadium you face are much too bright for you to see what is before you, and you breathe in, in well crafted anxiety. Perhaps it is better that way, you think to yourself, and you close your eyes only to immerse yourself in a blanket of darkness – and much needed peace. Yes, better indeed.

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