The Psychology of Deadlines

How does one accurately transliterate agony? The challenge of symbolism to depict--during my public housing home invasion that forever conflated my perspective on social fear, vocal chords were frozen in silence, and then terror broke lose once my Mighty Joe dragged me into my own bedroom. The damn exploded and I shrieked, my voice voluminous in sound waves, tenants in laundry room heard but were afraid to intervene. Time saved me, as Bradon would have had to asphyxiate or fracture my skull in less than ten minutes; within that time frame the salaried minorities appeared, old Myers, exterminator, young Terri, who I correctly evaluated as integration material in the urban business district. He was also not hardened enough to kill a white nearly penniless (these fuckwits exploited me for minimum wage without health insurance toward the event of my departure), invalid, but terror overwhelmed me, would have haunted my family had a black addict murdered me after they begged me not to do what I did after moving into North Philadelphia. The Washington Post loves analysts who are American triumphalists, but that triumph rests on nearly horrific--I cannot convey the recoil of the inner city--had the Luftwaffe reversed expectations and bombed our ghettos it would have not been unimaginable to believe it would have been a backhanded cleansing. Now you see how I handle pressure, and the expectation of delivery under pressure, for what? .05 cents a word on aggregate basis? I'm hastily throwing together five hundred word for my first pop, despite diffidence. I am not sure I will not fail here as I did for my hearing loss piece, but then again, this is inglorious assembly line journo-infotainment. With edits I'll get two dollars for Google Wallet. Spader just had an interesting scene smothering an old ally terminal with cancer?