WHAT'S THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN?
“What’s the worst that could happen?” she said, it echoed around my brain, an invader, a usurper of my fears. Inhibitions knocked off a monolithic throne; I was crowned an idiot by wasted years.
For a moment, I found myself emancipated, worry could not hold me down. A caged animal desperate and destined to run free unto the realm of possibility. The worst that could happen, had passed.
I waded through missed moments, dead friendships and a sea of disappointment I once chartered solo.
Willingly and blindly I had swum with breezeblocks fastened tightly by woven, strangling cord to my weak ankles.
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