I watched a pretty good flick tonight on scifi called Living Hell, one of those new computer animated ones, a good story line, good acting. I guess it got my hairs up. Here's what happened....
A reflection on the window caught my eye as I rose from the toilet. I jumped, then looked more closely. The bathroom window is a crank out type like you find in basements. A ruffled valance hangs halfway down while several bottles of cleaning liquids, an ashtray in the shape of an opened-mouthed fish, and another large green glass fish line the base, leaving only an inch or two of space between for reflexion. A pale blue towel is rolled and stuffed along the bottom to ward off drafts. A line of reflection follows the towel. Ah! That is probably it, I think. But as I move away from the window, another pale reflection moves, as well. It's me. I laugh, reach for the light switch, and stop. The window looks out on a small screened porch that faces the backyard. The porch is never locked. We are pretty much alone out here, no other houses within a quarter mile. But anyone who cares to walk could enter the porch and look right into the window. Why am I spooking myself like this, I wonder. But there's no stopping this strange fascination of mine with the bathroom window. It's not the first time I've felt other eyes watching. I turned off the light and go to peer out.
#
Okay, that's it! But as I'm writing this, something crashed into one of the large windows where I write, adjacent to the bathroom. It's pitch black out there and all I can see in these windows is me. I have to stop writing and go wake up my OH because every hair on my body is now standing at attention. There are no footprints outside in the snow. It's doubtful any birds are flying at night. In the end, we decide it's probably ice falling from the roof. Maybe? Probably.... So my question is, what's scared you lately?
A reflection on the window caught my eye as I rose from the toilet. I jumped, then looked more closely. The bathroom window is a crank out type like you find in basements. A ruffled valance hangs halfway down while several bottles of cleaning liquids, an ashtray in the shape of an opened-mouthed fish, and another large green glass fish line the base, leaving only an inch or two of space between for reflexion. A pale blue towel is rolled and stuffed along the bottom to ward off drafts. A line of reflection follows the towel. Ah! That is probably it, I think. But as I move away from the window, another pale reflection moves, as well. It's me. I laugh, reach for the light switch, and stop. The window looks out on a small screened porch that faces the backyard. The porch is never locked. We are pretty much alone out here, no other houses within a quarter mile. But anyone who cares to walk could enter the porch and look right into the window. Why am I spooking myself like this, I wonder. But there's no stopping this strange fascination of mine with the bathroom window. It's not the first time I've felt other eyes watching. I turned off the light and go to peer out.
#
Okay, that's it! But as I'm writing this, something crashed into one of the large windows where I write, adjacent to the bathroom. It's pitch black out there and all I can see in these windows is me. I have to stop writing and go wake up my OH because every hair on my body is now standing at attention. There are no footprints outside in the snow. It's doubtful any birds are flying at night. In the end, we decide it's probably ice falling from the roof. Maybe? Probably.... So my question is, what's scared you lately?
That's what I'm talkin' about. Next.
