Mental Health
Desperately in need of air, but knowing their life depended upon not making a sound, they hid behind the bushes after their run across the darkened field. They forced their lungs to rise and fall at an unbearably slow pace, seeing static and feeling on the verge of passing out, knowing that that would truly mean the end. A distant streetlight faintly reached in their direction, just enough to cast a very long, low-contrast shadow. But they knew what it was: a man, pacing about the field, holding an axe.
"Come on out, friends!" their pursuer said. "I think this has all been a misunderstanding. I'm just...an axe salesman! I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but I sure am passionate about my product."
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