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.'