Sloth, Maybe?

What follows is an email I sent to my mother of one of my greatest childhood fears. Try not to laugh. - JJB Mom, Below is a computer illustration of my most feared childhood boogeyman:   THE GOTCHA. Grandma’s rocking chair used to scare me when I saw it at night with the lights out.  I thought it was giving me this evil grin.  Almost every night as a child, I would have a nightmare where I was in this stark environment like an abandoned playground.  Then I would see this rocking chair run from one hiding place to another.  He would say, “I’m gonna getcha… I’m gonna getcha… I’m gonna getcha…” Then, after a long, pregnant pause, he would leap out in front of me and yell… I GOTCHA!!! Next, I would see this collage of newspaper clippings and fireworks and car chases.   I would wake up  SCREAMING and startle you.  I’d say, “Mom!  It’s The Gotcha!   IT’S THE GOTCHA!!!  ” I was scared stiff of that rocking chair, aka, The Gotcha.  Over time, however, I outgrew my fear and the rocking chair n

In the summer, the sun is my loving friend.  The sun is a radiant beacon which, by illusion, is suspended in the aquatic blue sky.  It blesses me with a warmth so intense, that I retreat to the pool in my building to temper its heat with cool water.  It is a pleasant relationship. HOWEVER, in autumn and winter, the sun becomes a little distant in our relationship.  It ducks out of the sky faster than I have time to appreciate it.  An unwelcome wind bites my skin, even through the ever increasing layers of clothing.  The sky turns a mocking cobalt, forbidding rather than nurturing.  The sun changes its mood, and it intimidates me. So I hide in the bunker of my home, no longer lured into the open.  I look out the large window of my apartment and I learn to fear the sun.  The sun demands I stay home. O, Great Sol Invictus, how have I offended thee?  Is it because I only see our union as a May to September romance.  Is it my fickleness, my shallowness that rankles you?  We will reunite onc