A couple of weeks ago I went to the local library book sale. I picked up a few books, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (6 volumes, they take up one full bookshelf and were hella heavy getting home). I also bought a book of Stephen King short stories, Everything's Eventual. I used to be a Stephen King fan and read everything that he wrote, but I stopped after reading about the Buick 8.. that story was way too weird for me and it basically killed what love for the genre that I had. However, finding Everything's Eventual for 50 cents at a book sale was okie dokie... I would read it. Since that time I would pick it up and occasionally read one of the short stories.
There are, however, consequences to this. I woke up this morning, started my usual routine of taking a bath, etc. This time I took the Stephen King book with me and read a story while I was soaking in the bathtub. It was a story about a haunted hotel room.
Those types of stories are not original. Seems I have read hundreds of haunted hotel room stories through the years, with no consequences for me other than a few wasted minutes. This time is different. That story scared the bejesus out of me and I have no idea why. Now my day feels slightly off-kilter, slightly wrong, as if I'm waiting for the worst to happen.
Stephen King is one strange guy.