It was the beginning of the storm. The air is thick, heavy. Hair sticking to the back of your neck. Your hands are oddly clammy. Your pulse is racing. You know a train is coming your way. You know you’re on the tracks. You know you should jump off, but you can’t. You’re frozen because it’s not just a flight or fight response. There’s the whole freezing response, and as your heart picks up in force, in speed, in sound, you know you’re about to get pummeled. Yeah. Because that’s what was about to happen.
