Yet another nightmare.

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99
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He woke up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding. Yet another nightmare.

He went to the kitchen and brewed a coffee whose bitter taste of dung turned his guts into a knot of revulsion.

These days a Kafkaesque anguish gripped him, chaining him to his bed, unable to escape his own warped fears.

He felt like a helpless worm, crushed by the weight of his own insecurities and irrational fears.

Today he would try to resist the temptation to succumb, but the lubricating taste of panic already clung tightly to his throat.