Emperor David here. I have been making a list all week of things I need to accomplish. You know: usurp Faustus, install my boyfriend as liege lord over Upside-down Hippopotamus, train Goblin as elite bodyguard . . . that sort of thing. In my imperial ambition, at least, things are going rather smoothly. It is the rest of my life that is overwhelming.
Drop off laundry, pick up laundry, go to the grocery store, go to the grocery store to get everything I forgot the first time, send invoices, pay bills, vote, write six pages of this, write three pages of that. These are the things that vex me. These are the things I can never seem to get done, the things that I transfer, unaltered, from one day of my to-do list to the next. They mount and compound, and before long, I am drowning.
But instead of worrying about them (or, god forbid, doing them), I will tell you a story. Gather close to your computer monitors, my precious angels, and read a true tale of suspense and terror.
Picture it: Towson, Maryland, a couple of years ago. My ex-boyfriend, Michael, and I took a visiting friend to visit one of the country
David…are you from Baltimore??? (I live there…here?)
Zenchick: Yes, I’m from Baltimore, but I don’t live there now. I keep escaping and getting sucked back in.
I grew up in an 1850’s farmhouse in Arkansas. It was quite haunted. I’m not sure if there were ever slaves there, although the combination of 1800’s, farm, and Arkansas probably points to yes. We did have a creepy “house graveyard” on the property. One girl got so scared there that she hyperventilated.
David, remind me to tell you my ghost story the next time we get together. I don’t want to post about it, but it is interesting.
I would make the comment about ALL of your hair standing on end but I won’t go there….
I just moved into a new apartment. Found out yesterday that is was vacated by death. Elderly couple died within months of each other. I keep smelling oatmeal cookies and poodles in the middle of the night. I wonder if that means anything?
If there are oatmeal cookies and poodles in your bed, then no, it doesn’t mean anything. Except that you’re kinky.
I live in a senior apartment. Every once in 2-3 months, we’d see Death Noticed. Talking about Haunted Apartments… Hrm, weird, how come my bathtub has been leaking lately.. and that noise coming out from the ceiling….