Anatomy of Fear

6

The images have begun to appear, just a few repeated fragments, but enough to record.

A new sheet of paper, a few more fragments drawn, but still they refuse to coalesce.

Relax.

A long deep breath, eyes closed, trying to imagine what he will do and how they will die. But still the images resist, fragments doing a jitterbug in and around his optic nerve, not quite ready to make the journey from brain to eye to paper.

He pushes away from the table with a hissing sigh, gazes at the pictures he has affixed to his walls for inspiration, and the fragments in his mind start up again.

The puzzle pieces have begun to take on meaning, each one adding to the whole: a stroke, a shape, an abstract blob, coming together to tell him what he needs to know. He sets one against another, fleshing out the picture, time passing, more and more fragments committed to paper, the image finally harvested.

He sits back, eyes closed, and pictures the event: collecting his gear, changing his clothes, riding the subway, stalking his prey.