Imagination

Yesterday evening while waiting for train, have sudden realization that if wanted to, could Leap from one side of platform, across tracks to other side (which is an abandoned platform, floor very very dirty). See that this is a bit unrealistic--could only accomplish if actually had to jump across, i.e. if was being chased by somebody. If was being chased, though, mode of final escape not clear. Would be possible to HIde behind strange, large pillars, but whatif being chased by several people? Could then jump down on tracks and hunch under overhang of platform. Grisly image of accidentally touching third rail enters brain and fantasy ends unplesantly. Am struck with unhappy thought that much of life is spent in similar unproductive pursuits, i.e. freaking self out. For example, while going to bathroom in middle of night imagining big Rat running out from behind toilet. Or if ever am in the Lincoln Tunnel thinking about leaks or jackknifed trucks, or flat tire on car that am in. Or how any blemish on skin turns into maglignant, deadly cancer and provide self with maudlin scenes of saying goodbye to loved ones. Or time several weeks ago while in kitchen, when heard name being said in deep, clear voice. At time, Dave at library. Did not turn around but hairs on back of neck bristled. To what purpose this nervous fantasizing? Reach unwelcome conclusion that must, on some level like being scared. Hear loud voice saying Fritz. Fritz! Libby wearing rain coat, holding umbrella under arm and has old lady type plastic kerchief on head. Feel certain that she, of all people, must have plenty of neurotic thoughts of her own. Ask (rhetorically) if she ever freaks herself out. She frowns as though she is considering. Says No.