It has begun.
This evening the first bulb of the season burned out. This was a brand new red party bulb, in a brand new clamp-on lamp. It wasn't even the cheap kind...it was the spiral kind, that are supposed to last hundreds of hours. It lasted four.
It's actually pretty early for things to start. I wonder what the rest of the month will be like.
ADDED 11:30 PM
Either I'm crazy, or my old man's ghost is starting to screw with me early this year, and stronger than past years. At around 8pm, I went to get a small bottle of glow in the dark paint from the bathroom counter. It's been there since I started decorating a week ago. I keep it there, because it's the guest bathroom and I know no one will touch it there. (This also happened to be the bathroom my father used when he lived with us).
Well, I went to get the bottle, and it wasn't there. I looked all over the counter, which is only 2' by 4'. Nothing. Moved stuff, looked under the sink (it's the bowl type that sits on the counter), looked on the floor, ran my hands over everything...gone. Looked outside, which was the last place I used it. Not there. Went back to the bathroom and looked again; turned off the light and looked for the "glow" of the bottle. Nada.
I gave up and went about my business of changing the blown bulb and doing some more decorating.
A few minutes ago, I went into the bathroom to wash up.
Imagine how strange I felt, when I saw that little bottle of paint sitting on the counter next to the sink. RIGHT NEXT TO THE SINK, where I had run my hands under the bowl, and moved everything around, trying to find it.
I froze. I actually got chills up my spine, seeing that bottle sitting there. I turned off the light...and it glowed like a beacon from a lighthouse.
There's no way in hell I could have missed that bottle. My old man is playing tricks on me.
-Christopher Pinto, author of
Murder Behind The Closet Door
Murder on Tiki Island