"He began to scream. The reverberations of his screams gave him the whole shape of the box, narrow-walled, low-roofed, unyielding. Its lid was screwed down hard and would not give. Earth was piled over the lid, airless earth, pressing down hard.
He screamed and moaned, he fought the box, in a frenzy of terror. He struggled and scuffled, strained his head up so that it beat against the coffin’s lid."
- Elizabeth Knox (Dreamhunter)
We all have fears.
Those tendrils of terror that grasp us in the corners of our mind and tug gently until the occasion arises for it swallow you whole.
They vary from person to person.
But there seems to be an inexplicable association between fear and the dark.
Something about the unknown frightens us.
I, for one, am terrified on the dark.
Or rather, being alone in the dark.
Its not specifically the dark that I'm afraid of.
Its what's IN the dark.
Who knows what there is,
lurking,
predatory.
And yet I'm a night owl.
My most productive and functional hours are the ones I usually spend on sleep.
There's something so eerily transcendental about iridescent moonlight, the faint specks of stars and the twinkling glow of city lights cast upon a dark velvet tapestry.
Its almost as if the stark contrast is what sets it off.
making it seem more beautiful, precious.
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