I'm old enough to know that monsters aren't really real. But I'm also just enough of an irrational scaredy cat to expect some unmentionable horror to be nipping at my heels when I bound up the basement steps after doing laundry and stupidly flip the switch at the bottom of the steps rather than at the top.
Most times, I force myself to not sprint up the stairs two at a time lest Brett have me committed or get the idea that it might be fun to hide in the basement and scare me the next time I'm forced to do laundry after dark.
And another thing: Everyone knows you're much safer after the door is shut than in the nanoseconds before. It's why I only open the door enough to squeeze my arm through when throwing soggy, dirty dish towels down to the basement. Someday, I'm convinced some ghost in the basement will fling the wet towel back up the steps. I'd rather that bone-chilling slop smack the back of the basement door than my face.
>shiver, shudder, shiver<
I just considered the possibility of taking a picture of the dark basement from atop the steps to post and include in the blog. Yeah right. Who knows what that might yield. The last thing I need is to inadvertently have my flash create some spooky shadow that I can publicly puh-shah and inwardly fear is validation for my quirky relationship with the steps to the basement and the proverbial people under the stairs.
No thanks.
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