Tonight, as I closed my eyes to sleep, the field of vision behind my eyelids was filled with a stuttering, frenetic vision as if a thousand black and white birds were pouring out of the sky. Flitting from one edge of the frame to the other, their exact shapes obscured, they cascaded before me like static on a TV. These, perhaps, are my anxieties. I take a deep breath and gently blow the birds away.