After I pulled the double shot of espresso the hairs on the top of my eyebrows left holes in my skin. My hairs were stiff needles. I shivered goosebumps from my toes to the back of my throat. Each hair felt as fine as a coarse fiber of metal. The sweat underneath my arms lit me hot to my fingers. I was hot as hell. The heat on my cheeks swooned my eyes to the back of my head, then I felt my head meet a wall. It sounded as a hammer misses a nail. Behind my eyes I saw colors. Some indigo, some forest, some ruby, and other colors as rich as any pit of tar. It was black. When I awoke I was most irritated by the amount of people around me—asking me if I was okay.