Nonfiction


Well, if you really want me to choose just one—oh, OK you do—well then I’d have to say scuba diving because of the sharks and also the lack of oxygen and also the fact that my other biggest fear is the dark because you just don’t know what’s out there, and not only what’s out there but what’s right next to you when you think you’re sleeping next to someone you know in a tent on a safari but then you roll over in the middle of the night and put your arm around a lion, or worse, a hippo, which is actually the most dangerous animal in the world, given its amphibious nature and also because of its sheer size, which I’d compare to a steam roller, not unlike the one that nearly ran me right into traffic when I was biking here this morning which obviously I wouldn’t normally do on such a hot day, ever since reading about the speed at which hyperthermia can creep up on you, but like I was saying, you can’t let fear rule your life, because if I spent my life worrying about the fact that more Americans are killed each year by their water heater spontaneously exploding than by the demonic spirits living in their garage, you’d probably find me living in a shack without running water, and that will never happen because I live in a city on account of the deranged psychopaths roaming the woods at night—and no, I have no intention of being chain-sawed into bite-sized pieces while I sleep, thank you very much—so as I was saying, if I had to choose, I’d probably say, yeah, that’s my biggest fear.

Written as an exercise at a workshop I attended last week. The assignment? Write anything, as long as it’s all one sentence.

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