joe bloggs

When I was a kid, I feared night like nothing else.

Sometimes I would lay awake in the middle of the night absolutely rigid with fear.

Drawing up the blankets tight around my neck, I could barely bring myself to glance over to the curtained window, especially if there was a full moon outside, because I KNEW that if I did, some evil ghoul's horrible silhouette would rise into view and if it saw me looking at it, it would come in and murder me.

I couldn't even glance over to the door handle because I knew that, if I did, it would immediately turn with a terrifying creak and some unspeakable horror would let itself into my room and suffocate me to death before dismembering me and taking away my remains to be dumped in some faraway drain.

I had to have my blankets tightly tucked in to prevent the tentacled horrors under the bed from sliding up under the covers down near my feet, slithering up my body and throttling me to death.

It was quite hard work being this much afraid, so eventually I would fall alseep and have horrible dreams.

I still have the most graphic horror story dreams, but these days I tend to actually enjoy them.

Occasionally, however, when I wake at night, I still feel a tingle of fear. For example, I might climb out of bed in the dead of night and walk to the cold kitchen in total blackness to get a drink of water or to turn off a dripping tap.

It's eerie, because I know that if I turn around suddenly, right there behind me will be a ghost and it will frighten the life out of me and I will have a heart attack and drop dead on the spot.






is it time for a nap yet? i think so