When you’re young nightfall is a scary time. Floorboards creak, every creature is stirring including a mouse, and there’s a decidedly ungentle rap, rap, rapping on your bedroom window.
But the older you get the more you realize sunrise is way scarier than anything night can hold a candle to. After all nighttime is all anticipation and excitement, secrets and shadows, while daylight is all about putting as much distance between you and your hangover as possible. Or am I alone on that?
But when night sinks in reality slips away. And when day breaks reality comes crashing down all around you. Life’s true horror is that it waits for no one, like rush hour.
And real tragedy, real terror, always strikes when you’re most vulnerable. Real horror scars you to the core. There’s no way to prepare yourself, to gird your loins. You might as well be in the shower holding a bar of soap.
I should know, it hit me this morning as I was getting ready for work. Barely awake, before the first espresso, still I knew my time had come.
Few events in life leave you so shaken, leave you feeling so alone. It’s akin to your first rejection, or when you realize your dog knows just a smidge too much about you, or when it finally dawns on you this was just your first marriage.
Today I saw that my ear fuzz had become full-fledged wiry ear hair. The kind of hair that could be mistaken for Andy Rooney’s eyebrows or hair that will make my Teen-Wolf-Twenty-Years-Later Halloween costume a little too authentic. Yes friends, I’m a 30 something year old
But hey, you know you’re in a good horror story when there’s no escaping the hairy situation.
© Indian Macgyver 2017