Tuesday, January 11, 2005

I think Omni will appreciate this.

I wrote the following as a comment to a post by Bugbear and LibertyBob's helpful response:
The old house I lived in from age 2-11 was haunted. Once, when I was seven or eight, I had to go to the bathroom real bad at night, so I crept quietly downstairs and opened the bathroom door.

A shadowy thing that looked like a giant fist came around the door at my face.

I must not have screamed, because nobody woke up, but I was back in bed under the covers in about 3 seconds.

Funny thing was, my bladder was still full, and my pride in my potty-training eventually forced me to go back down and face the monster.

Good thing he was gone.

I hate to come back to earth here and spoil the mood, but there are several possible explanations:

I have a big brother (well, he was bigger than me back then).

A bat in the house.

A troll in the bathroom.

A malevolent spirit.

My experience of twilight walks in the Grand Canyon, combined with LB's explanation makes me realize that the truth is: all of the above.

A question to the cosmos: why am I not afraid of the dark?

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