“She lay there on a bed that inexorably became a bed of ashes and hot coals, while her imagination dwelt on every conceivable disaster, from his having forsaken her for another woman to his having, somehow, ended up in the morgue. And as the night faded from black to gray to daylight, the telephone b…”— James Baldwin, amazon.comTagged: what anxiety feels like, anxiety in literature, Fear, Night, bedtime