In the dark, forbidding corners of the night when the medicine runs low and the mind runs wild, doom awaits the weary traveler.
Especially if said-traveler is a wee-short on sanity and tall on imagination.
Every tragic outcome of every situation is paraded before sleepless eyes in hellish technicolor.
If it is too early to reach for the magic pills of Prozac and Deplin, the night stretches long and mined before you. If luck is with you, prayers of dawn beat out the panicked retches.
This was my night. May it not be yours.
Post-note: Histrionics aside, the above is too often true. A dirty, dark secret of anxiety and panic.