So I managed to creep myself out. On the way home from watching GoT with my Mom and Step-dad at midnight, I fly by a car way off the road. Skid marks down into the gravel and snow, resting up against the pine trees. So I turn around, try to angle my headlights so I can see in, thinking all the while, Please, no dead bodies, no dead bodies... Well, I cant see anyone, and the windshield is intact, but now of course Im thinking that someone could be injured (pleasenotdead) flung down across the seats. I pull my flash out of the camera bag and hold it out the passenger window, thinking maybe I can see a little better with that big light. No. Just threw deep shadows into the interior and a too-bright reflect off the outside. Dang it. Cause now Im looking for my little purse flashlight. I have to walk down there and make sure. Also thinking to myself, This is actually the start of a Stephen King novel, stupid. (Get THAT thought out of your head once its in there.) Im waiting for an onslaught of monsters or highwaymen or a pack of werewolves or something as I start tip-toeing down. No foot prints coming out that I can see, but its not great foot print dirt. Dang it. Fortunately, I could see enough of the interior about half way down the embankment to satisfy me, and no blood or guts, so I high-tailed it back to my vehicle. (You cant run, of course, because then the monsters know you know theyre there and youre fair game.) A few minutes later, I pull into my driveway, ready to be safe and sound and make it half-way to my front door when I hear a pack of at least a hundred coyotes start up two feet behind me. (Ok, there were maybe five and they were at least a mile away, but COME ON. Stephen King novel.) Now Im locked in my house, alls secure (because I did a damn walk-through) and Im going to bed. To try to sleep.
Posted on: Mon, 07 Apr 2014 04:46:03 +0000
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