I’ve got my heroes. They’re hiding in the closet and under the bed. One popped out of the toaster just this morning and scared me half to death. He was thin and golden brown. I smeared him with butter and ate him.
People go mad to keep from being scared. Don’t ask me how I know, it surfaced in a dream, like a submarine. The hatch popped open and out sprang crazed sailors smoking pipes and eating spinach.
Tap dancing is one way to deal with being scared. Do it barefoot on a metal tray submerged in water. Do it like you mean it. Don’t blink when your eyes fill with sweat. Ignore the tiny fears that surf the waves.
Keep dancing until you run out of heroes.