Daily Prompt: Home

I had a nightmare

And in this realm

I didn’t have a home

Searching, looking . . . for that home

And the fear

En route to nowhere

Engulfed me

But what if in that moment, I could escape from the outside?

Be present, be still

Home is a moment

And when awake

Home is tangible, supposedly comfortable

Where we like nice things

That we . . . need?

Always something to compare

Are you, or am I,  ever really there?



Call it Paranoid

It’s the car behind me

Or the one on the right

It could be the man at the traffic light

Slow down, speed up, go home

Who’s that?

Don’t stop here and don’t go there

In fact, do not go anywhere

Lock that door; accelerate

You don’t have time to hesitate

Fear personified

Paranoia amplified

Every time I drive at night.


I have never quite been able to express my anxiety when it comes to driving in Johannesburg, at night. I know it’s not within reason, and people can call this behavior crazy, or delusional. I call it paranoid.