Lying in bed, fearful of leaving her apartment, waiting for a stranger to deliver her dinner, the song came up.
'It's
the James Taylor Prophecy', she thought, 'I'm afraid to go out,
I'm afraid of
the knock on my door, always a shade of a doubt, I can never be sure, who comes to call. Maybe the friend of a friend of a friend. Anyone at all. Anything but nothing again.'