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Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.
Fear is the mind killer
Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration
I will face my fear
I will permit it to pass over me and through me
And when it has gone past
I will turn the inner eye to see its path
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing
Only I will remain