The price of blinding light is abysmal dark. I twirled in the sun for so long that I failed to recognise the maisma filling every gap of my organs. Every event was in order yet even breathing was a task. The heart was too loud. I saw nobody. There was no reason to feel such wreckage. However, I was trembling in the reality that broke before me. Was it panic attack? Was it anxiety? But really? You had to visit me at work when nothing was wrong yet everything was. So I escaped.