An excerpt from my novel, Mistaken Enemy.
By the time I was in the car, I was close to jealousy for those lucky people who allow themselves to use sedative drugs as freely as chewing gum; Valium would have loved my trepidation-bash, and I would have equally delighted, allowing it to vaporize my concerns into airy masses of feel-good bubbles. I wasn’t lonely but I felt alone, and that’s a rare one for me—well, if all you have is Xanax, I’ll try it, just this one time.
That evening I jumped into bed, pep-talking myself to prepare for the upcoming trip. “I’m excited!”
I’m also a damn fool.
(MY COMMENT: At times we do things that make no sense to us…they defy sound reason yet we feel compelled, as if we are powerless to resist. Some of these result in miracles, some in mayhem, some in madness and some in murder—even the innocent and kindhearted fall pray to the quirkiness of the Roman God of fortune and caprice, Mercury.)