And you know the slower, more agonising sort of terror that lies in the act of hiding – hiding for years or decades, never daring to make a single mistake. That terror that seeps into every thought, every dream. The terror that underlines every pleasure, the terror that negates hope, the terror that stains every joy with the knowledge that it may all soon end, and horribly. But this is the counterpoint: the truth that we must also carry within us. The understanding that for all they have done to us, for all they have brought us to the whimpering edge of annihilation, they’re not invulnerable.
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