Monday, September 20, 2010

A Loss I Grieve For

I just realized that it's been decades since a scary story has had the power to frighten me. When I was a kid, ghost stories and tales about monsters used to scare me. H.P. Lovecraft's odd tales of eldritch beings, classic ghost stories like The Turn of the Screw, or something brilliant like Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House gave me the willies. Totally.

I'd lay in bed, goosebumpled, eyes bugging out, turning the pages with dread, afraid to breathe, until the old man, roused from his slumber after two whiskeys and a six-pack of Hamms, got up, turned off The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, shuffled down the hallway and rapped on my bedroom door to tell me to turn out the light on his way to the Parental Bedroom.

Scary stories leave me unmoved now.

I miss the feeling.

Nothing good can come of this.

1 comment:

  1. I read "The Exorcist" when I was 25 and it scared the shit out of me. Couldn't sleep all night. That's the last time I was scared by a book or movie, though.


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