The Nature of Dreams

One one-thousandth of a second.

Something in the atmosphere triggers my rage long before my brain can process the cause. Betrayal! I begin to radiate heat along sharply angled paths from the center of my chest. All my muscles tense up, and my head starts to throb.

Two one-thousandths of a second.

A quick breath followed by another helps me push down the anger. In and out slowly. The unfamiliar scent upon you identified as the trigger—the breath allowing the mind to catch up and process intelligently what the lizard brain can’t. Flowers held behind your back now thrust to me, surprising me.

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