Where once we gazed with fearful fright out of our windows, we now but look upon the world with weariness. The dreary day, the endless rides, the plastic debt and monotony. A bane it is, our new society. Our joyous technology. Where as a bane was once greater.

Who would have thought that a bane would turn from something baring teeth and claw to that of plastic? Men, beasts, demons. Nightmares, fears, and lost loves. It was something once that would stalk a man and fill him with dread, keeping him awake long into the night. We've lost something with technology, you know.

A wonderment, a childish fear, a sharp stab of the unknown that pierces our gut and grips tight our innards. Both pain and pleasure simultaneously giving us a rush - a bright moment of adrenaline and life. Lost, lost now in this world of plastic. This world of cabling and desks, cars and townhouses. There is nothing in the shadows now that once resembled our banes. Nothing wild that stalks the wood.

The noise, the shudder, the brief movement? A stray cat, a bit of glass, perhaps a broken limb. Nothing more and nothing less. What a world it is now, what a world indeed, where one must mourn the passing of fear. Fear, the product of imagination and wonder, that had once draped itself over stark reality. Stark reality now free of its trappings. If anything hunkers in the shadows now it does so merely to hide its once impressive visage, reduced now to banality.

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I feel pretentious.

Don't smack me! Violence is not becoming!