She held her life in her own hands as if it were a pipe bomb ready to explode. she walked quietly, steadily, like each step could kill her, her voice was always quiet and apologetic enticing the gods to peace that she might not burst.
each day she did precisely what she should, as if one mistake would invoke ta wrath though from what she didn't know. as an atheist she didn't fear have anyone to fear, maybe that was why she feared everything.
how could she risk a bad grade, a love affair, an adventure, with this tempest at her back that she'd never seen and never felt but was sure waited for just the right moment to spring over her and send her to oblivion
She wanted to go to London, wanted to be a writer, she wished so dearly to have the chances others had. People she loved and respected, they had been around the world, they had created things to live for but how could she do this? It was dangerous, life was dangerous, didn't others see that? Life could hurt, maim, life destroyed, life killed. how could someone take on something so ruthless? How could a person say yes to life with all it's torments, with all it's gleaming knives and rusted spikes?
life had murder, war, selfishness, ignorance, rape, torture, injustice, life was unfair!
even worse life had dirt, sex, moist flesh. it had joy and sorrow and complexity, life was unpredictable.
better to stay here, better to stay in her classroom, learn other people's stories, study, become intelligent. Even if she never wrote a book, never left her home, it was better than accepting all life had to offer, it was better than saying yes to all that.
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