I feel a fearsome fire rising up from the deep; rising, twisting and burning hot through my intestines. The heat is taking over my senses and blotting everything else out. My inner core has shudders running through it in and feverish chills roll over my soul. Salty sweat falls into my wide, glazed, glaring eyes. Nothing beats the intensity of the anticipation.
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I’m creeped out. Are you going to quit your job and began writing poetry or fiction?