Scary

It is the unconventionality of certain situations, the pure and plain weirdness, that make them scary.

So I was frightened when I was stripped from my nestling blankets and dragged outside where roaring engines met my all-too-thin-for-the-cold layers.

The proximity of blackness and red-orange glows uncomfortabled my innocence.

I tried to sleep it all away. My eyelids bore surprising strength in their heaviness.

So I was awakened to the safe haven of garage doors and was glad I got a pass from the chaos.

And wanting to make my luck last, I flew my fleeting feet up the stairs to bed.