Lilapsophobia A storm's moving in. Please take care of me. According to the weather forecast, it will be as primal, as swirling, as a Caribbean la tormenta. Protect me from lightning strikes, cacophonous thunder rolls. I am embarrassed to admit it but I am in abject fear. You only know me as the vivalavirgen, the unserious Latina. But the air is about to spin in some violent vortex, bluster wildly, whip and shatter. Look at me. My face is as pale as brown ever gets. My eyes crunch together so I can"t see what I'm thinking. My hands tremble. Knees thump together. You ask "Is anything the matter?" If you don't take care of me then you're the matter. You're Late Mosquitoes save me from impatience. I’m swatting one after the other. And a motorcycle roars down the street, cutting the air in two. My attention thanks that machine tenfold. I’m tolerant at least for as long as my neighbor’s dog sidles up for a pat. And ...
Like the title says.