Microbe On A Hot Glass Slide

Things have been happening to me in the eighteen months that I have lived in Augusta, Maine that I cannot post online, at least not now, for fear of retribution. I have never felt this way before, timid and repressed. Is it this location in particular, or due to my own karma and fate, or a sign of the times for all of us: malevolence metastasizing out of the relentless doomsday propaganda, the repeated mass shootings, war and terrorists striking throughout the world, saboteurs holed up who-knows-where and preparing who-knows-what horror to spring upon who-knows-who, or is it the unshakable fears of my own decline? I am reluctant to move out and about, to speak up. I am feeling a little like a microbe on a hot, glass slide under a microscope and looking for a way out as things evaporate around me.

Microbe On A Hot Glass Slide Under A Microscope