The Undertoad

I almost dare not write about it, but I feel it. It follows me stepping on the heels of my shoes as I walk on the wet leaves. I smell it's moldy breath moving my hair off my neck and making the flesh rise in goose bumps on my arms. I hear it's mocking laugh each time the phone rings. It is a battle we have. Each day, I to see the light and run faster than the Undertoad. Each day to listen to the music of a thousand different sounds to drown out the screaming of the Undertoad.
I fear this is a mistake, to be naked without a prescription bottle near. I will stand strong with my shield of motherhood impaled on my chest.