In the deadening calm of pre-dawn hours, they lurk like lions in the weeds of the unsuspecting mind. They wait as we flutter in and out of dreams like butterflies, the morning alarm nothing more than a distant concern. Slowly, something pulls us from our reverie, a tug of gravity grounding us in a disquieting tangle. They have awoken, announcing their arrival with flop sweat and a skipped heartbeat.
We’ve just remembered the deadline.