Paranoia.

I was out of socks. This meant that it was time for me to do laundry, so I gathered up all my clothes and walked to the laundromat a block away. While my laundry was in the washer, some random guy asked me if I had any extra detergent. I couldn’t say no. He was slightly awkward looking, but that doesn’t matter in this story. He sat a seat away from me and took out his laptop. Half an hour passed, and I switched my clothes to a drier. A few more minutes went by, and suddenly the guy set his laptop down in the chair next to me. I could feel a trace of fear run through me. As he got up and walked out the door, I began to panic. My heart felt ready to burst with the amount of adrenaline now coursing through my veins. I didn’t show any change of expression, though, and tried to calm myself. I tried to rationalize that no one tries to blow up a laundromat. What happened next did not help. His laptop began vibrating and making strange noises, like it was dying. No one tries to blow up a laundromat. What would they gain? Why this laundromat? What about his clothes? I knew it was stupid, but the paranoia was too much for me. If I got up and moved, I would look so stupid. Better to be stupid than lose my life. It made no sense. Who would go around blowing up laundromats? It made no sense at all. But paranoia makes no sense. I was afraid. Scared. It suddenly became harder to breathe. It took all I had to keep myself from hyperventilating. If for nothing else, I thought, I would get up to ease my fears and paranoia. I felt like I was losing years off my life for every second I sat there. I finally got up; I had an idea. I would check to see how much time was left on my drier. Standing in front of the drier, I had never felt stupider, but I had also never felt more relieved. Now if it blew up, I would not be next to it. From the corner of my eye, I saw the guy reenter. I gave an inward sigh of relief and went to sit down.