It begins.

It begins with a sensation. A feeling so tiny it is debatable whether it was ever a feeling at all. It wanders through my subconscious aimlessly, serenely, muttering softly to itself about nothing in particular, evading detection in its benign state. But it doesn’t have a destination, and therefore it continues to wander until it becomes worn out. As it drifts so delicately it awakens dormant nerves and senses, which are angered by the intruder and begin to grumble. Each awakens its neighbours to complain about the disturbance, and each of those is relayed a half-told story biased with anger and distress about the mystery sensation.

The chatter spreads. The story becomes more specific, yet more varied in this rapidly progressing game of Chinese whispers. Conflict is initiated. Every nerve is so sure of the facts and fights their case; there was an intruder and this is definitely why.

The stories interfere with normal processes. There might just as well be a murderer on the loose and so everyone is vigilant and distracted. More and more flags are waved from all directions, more and more calls for help or a second opinion, and not enough attention to go around so everyone panics and stops work while they wait for the boss to tell them the murderer has been caught.

The tricky bit here is that the nerves are the ones who are meant to tell the boss what’s happening. The nerves have told the boss so many stories from so many viewpoints that no part of it makes sense anymore and the body remains in panic until everyone is worn out and everyone goes back to sleep. By the time they awaken they have forgotten. It is like the mystery intruder was never there.

The new day begins with peace.

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