The cup now emptied, the black potion took its course. New life and vigor coursed through my veins. With renewed strength I watched my post. Yet this condition did not last–nay it could not. For dwelling in this same potion lived a spirit. And now he torments me on my left and on my right. My heart beats fast, but my vitality surely fades. I hear a sound, but it is naught. I see a vision, but it is surely a mirage. And so I sit, captive to the demon I released when once I drank the cup of trembling.
- Me, circa finishing a cup of coffee
Cup of Trembling
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