The Neat Freak was afraid of things so little that The Neat Freak couldn’t see them, because The Neat Freak knew that even one Little Murderous Thing could kill it in a moment.
Each morning when its alarm clock rung at 6 AM, The Neat Freak awoke and slipped its feet into its slipper without once touching the ground. The Neat Freak knew that the ground is where the Little Murderous Things settled in the night and, therefore, The Neat Freak did not touch the ground with its bare feet.
If The Neat Freak were to touch the ground with its bare feet, the Little Murderous Things that gathered in the ground would climb its legs and enter its body through the holes the Little Murderous Things found at the top of them. Or else they would climb higher and enter through the holes in the face and the sides of the head.
Or, perhaps, and this was a thought The Neat Freak hated having but, never-the-less, must have to stay on guard from the Little Murderous Things, they would enter under the toenails and fingernails, wedging and squeezing themselves between the keratin and the flesh, not able to burrow deep enough to enter the body proper but too deep to clean.
The Little Murderous Things would die there, leaving behind their bodies too deep to ever remove and more would come. Over the months and over the years, more Little Murderous Things would crawl and die under the finger and toenails until, finally, there isn’t enough space for all the corpses of the Little Murderous Things stored there.
And then one day, one at a time, each nail will pop and shatter, and those poisoned shards covered in millions of Little Murderous Corpses will explode out in every direction, piercing The Neat Freak’s flesh and filling it with the Little Murderous Things who will each be renewed in The Neat Freak’s blood.
When The Neat Freak thinks about this, they go and wash their hands and because they think about this, they never go outside. And because they never go outside, they think The Little Murderous Things cannot kill them, and because The Little Murderous Things cannot kill them, they will live forever.
One day, Bonehead breaks into The Neat Freaks house and shoots it twice in the chest and takes its tv. The Neat Freak dies face down on the ground, watching all the Little Murderous things crawl into the new holes in its rib cage.
We become what we most fear,
So we must fear what we would most love to become.
Each morning when its alarm clock rung at 6 AM, The Neat Freak awoke and slipped its feet into its slipper without once touching the ground. The Neat Freak knew that the ground is where the Little Murderous Things settled in the night and, therefore, The Neat Freak did not touch the ground with its bare feet.
If The Neat Freak were to touch the ground with its bare feet, the Little Murderous Things that gathered in the ground would climb its legs and enter its body through the holes the Little Murderous Things found at the top of them. Or else they would climb higher and enter through the holes in the face and the sides of the head.
Or, perhaps, and this was a thought The Neat Freak hated having but, never-the-less, must have to stay on guard from the Little Murderous Things, they would enter under the toenails and fingernails, wedging and squeezing themselves between the keratin and the flesh, not able to burrow deep enough to enter the body proper but too deep to clean.
The Little Murderous Things would die there, leaving behind their bodies too deep to ever remove and more would come. Over the months and over the years, more Little Murderous Things would crawl and die under the finger and toenails until, finally, there isn’t enough space for all the corpses of the Little Murderous Things stored there.
And then one day, one at a time, each nail will pop and shatter, and those poisoned shards covered in millions of Little Murderous Corpses will explode out in every direction, piercing The Neat Freak’s flesh and filling it with the Little Murderous Things who will each be renewed in The Neat Freak’s blood.
When The Neat Freak thinks about this, they go and wash their hands and because they think about this, they never go outside. And because they never go outside, they think The Little Murderous Things cannot kill them, and because The Little Murderous Things cannot kill them, they will live forever.
One day, Bonehead breaks into The Neat Freaks house and shoots it twice in the chest and takes its tv. The Neat Freak dies face down on the ground, watching all the Little Murderous things crawl into the new holes in its rib cage.
We become what we most fear,
So we must fear what we would most love to become.
