4

brain like an anemone delicately reaching tendrils through dusky morning light and being trodden on by some wrong footed kid clamoring thru the rock pool. the kid is lack of sleep and also (relatedly) reversing into your coworker's car in the parking lot with everybody watching because you are running late. now half of your brain tendrils are squashed and you are also (relatedly) angry.

you are alone now trying to do your job. a cardboard box in the breeze looks like a golden retriever rearing its head and is inexplicably terrifying. you reel around towards it and realise it's a cardboard box. this is what going mad must feel like you think. except maybe something a bit more terrifying and persistent. maybe this is how it begins. a portent. the golden retriever of cognitive decline...