Doubts. There is nothing more terrifying, I would argue. They are insidious, doubts, and have the capacity to grow to terrifying proportions. Doubts always start small. They all almost look innocuous at first glance. They seem to tell you, in their small pettiness, that they are really nothing to worry about if you just ignore them. They make themselves, however, tantalizing enough that, somehow, you cannot do anything else but stare, bamboozled or enchanted, watching how they grow.

As I said, doubts always start small like… did I turn of the stove before leaving the house this morning? It’s a small detail, trivial. Of course, you did. You always do. You can even recall the action, repeated uncountable times, day after day, in the same exact manner. Yet, now that you actually think about it, you cannot be sure whether you actually performed the action that morning. You could be remembering wrong, thinking about the other uncountable times you do the same exact thing.

Doubts. And now the doubt has grown. You don’t know if you switched off the stove. Nobody is at home, so nobody can check for you. The doubt grows larger. Now, you are wondering what was close to the stove. Did you leave the towel on top like you usually do, forgetting to hang the drape to dry. And if the towel is on the stove, and the stove is on, has the whole house already gone up in flames? Or has just the kitchen started catching fire?

Terror. The doubt has grown to gigantic proportions. It’s not even a doubt anymore. It’s outright fear. Terror. And yet, it started so small and innocent. Just a little doubt. Nothing to really worry about, until well… you do.