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Night shift ramblings... it does strange things to my mind.

The night has teeth
Pitch.
Curved.
Hooked.

Its foetid breath
Raises hairs on your neck.
Primeval fear.

You are prey.
The predator is unseen.

Like a rabbit,
Frozen,
You crouch,
Warding the edge of night,
Between the light and the dark.

Unable to move forward into the unknown future,
Or back into the past.

Slowly dying the imperceptible death of indecision.

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