Xenophobia

Last night I was woken up by the loud voices of a group of men who were shouting and fighting outside. At the first sound from the group, a now too familiar sinking feeling of fear gripped me. My heart raced and I started sweating. My first thought was that they were a xenophobic mob about to axe their way into the house. The only thing I could imagine then was my brutal murder soon to be carried out by the group. Images of my not so pretty battered and mangled corpse lying amongst the trashed contents of the house raced through my head. A minute later, I realised they were drunk men fighting over money that one of them had picked up. As the sound of the group faded into the distance, I let out a small chuckle, covered my self and went back to sleep.