First it makes me tremble, and that is just the word. Arranging the letters in such a way that Pain is spelled. E, the letter of my first name, my handle my given chosen title. Painless and some would think comforting. But it takes it’s place firmly in the front of Evil.
D, alone is a usefull letter, a letter that delivers; dreamy imaginings. Then danger and destruction come crashing to mind, not so innocent now.
Add an I, into the mix, the all seeing, sneeky peeping; I. Straight like a sharp stick to jab me with. Poking and prodding me forward; until i teeter on the edge of the precipise.
T, alone, T can soothe and comfort me, placate and cajole me. When buffered up to the end of the collection of letters. T stops being innocent, it makes the letters read as a word. The word that is…
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