Poetry, short stories, and other such creative endeavours.
Saturday, 27 September 2008
Panic - a drabble
I start to panic. I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone ten years from now. I don’t know who or what I am. Am I a good person, or even a nice one? How many opportunities do I miss every day? My pulse quickens and my breaths come shallow and fast as I become overwhelmed by the vastness and insignificance of my life in the huge, unfeeling universe.
What if my best days are behind me? What if I haven’t made a difference?
Then he puts his hand on mine and smiles at me, and I’ll be alright.