Casper felt the presence of death like the rain, but maybe without the pitter-patter and the cold. He was surrounded by it. There was no escaping. It was in knives, water, on animals, and in air. Casper was sure that anything could kill him.
This day in particular, though, Casper had come to a conclusion. No one ever took all the precautions he took, and yet they lived, further more they lead a happier life than his. He sighed, ran one hand in his hair. He dropped on the sofa.
“Maybe it’s just me…” he sipped his coffee “It would only take the caffeine in 158 cups of coffee to put me down, unless of course the water was-“. He cut himself off. Casper held his head in his hands. He needs to stop thinking like this. He can’t live a prisoner of his anxiety forever. He didn’t finish his coffee anyway.
It haunted him as he walked to work, how would he be able to stop it? It has