‘Are aliens real?’ you ask, ‘is there a hell?’ You want to know all the answers, you always want to know all the answers. ‘Did God really create the universe?’ you ask. Fear comes a-calling then and that sweeps all those fine questions out of the window. You’ll never ask them again. You’ll forget about them forever. You’ll enter a different kind of life now. That’s how it is when fear comes a-calling, as well we all know. That’s just the kind of thing fear is liable to do. There’s fear now, I believe. That’s him rapping sharply on the door, that’s him slyly tapping on your bedroom window late at night. Late at night whilst you’re lying there anguished in your bed, trying desperately to hypnotise yourself to sleep. ‘How can I escape the hell of wakefulness?’ you’re asking yourself frantically, ‘is there no escape from it?’ Sleep soon comes however, sleep soon comes and takes you away. ‘Is there any escape at all from reality?’ you ask yourself blearily but you’re fast asleep now, in a waking dream and you don’t even know what you’re talking about. You’re wandering in your mind. You’re thinking about the aliens and you’re wondering how they created the world. ‘How on earth did they do it?’ you’re asking yourself. ‘How did they pull it off, those clever old aliens?’ You shout out loud, you hoot like a deranged owl and scamper bizarrely around the house – you want to praise the aliens, you want to praise them as much as you can, you want to praise them to the fullest extent of your ability. Those jolly old aliens, they can be very funny too sometimes, which people don’t usually seem to realise. They’d be telling you jokes until the early hours and you would be screaming with laughter. You’d be beside yourself with glee, howling hopelessly with mirth. So much mirth, so much mirth. Did you ever know such mirth? Those were the better days, as you know. They were the good days, the happy days. Those were the days before all the bad things happened – the bad things that we are too frightened to mention. Fear came a-calling you see, the same as it always does. The same as it always does. It came a-knocking on the door. You’d jump clean out your skin. Fear came a-knocking on your door and you know what that means. You know only too well.