Gingerbread Man

Run, Run as fast as you can

You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man

A Silly Boy tried, then he tripped and he fell

Broke his little neck on the way down the well

Next was a Farmer who trudged through the mud

He didn't see the scythe and choked on his blood 

The Old Lady who made me fresh from her oven 

She fell down the stairs and cracked her skull open

The Barber who ran with his razor in hand

Alas, also met with a terrible end 

A Little Girl caught me, she thought I was cute

Till she found Mummy's severed head, stuffed in the chute

So Run, Run as fast as you can

You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man

But I get bored, see, this I cannot pretend

So I might just let you catch me again

[Disclaimer: Image not mine.]

Spiders

Did you know that spiders have the uncanny ability to send signals out to other spiders long after they're dead? These signals are made up of various combinations of chemicals that, when transmitted, can only be interpreted by other spiders who receive them. 

The messages that stem from the blend of chemicals are often very specific. Below are just a few examples of what those signaled messages can mean:

Some are meant as warnings. Some convey the last known locations of potential and easy prey. 

Some are simply instructions to take revenge on the entity/entities that destroyed them.


When was the last time you killed a spider? 




[Disclaimer: Image first seen on and grabbed from https://m.facebook.com/CREEPYismofficial] 

The Thing In The Basement

I've lived in this house for a long time and have always loved it here. There is no place in this house I haven't explored. Every nook, cranny, recess, hidden passage, you name it, I've been there. This house is ancient－over a hundred years old－and has a distinct vintage quality about it not unlike well aged wine.

The place is, for the most part, quiet. This is actually something I relish about it. It gives me a sense of freedom to do whatever I like, without interruption and distraction.

My favorite part of the house－the basement. It's the quietest and, inadvertently, the most peaceful part of the house since hardly anyone goes down there. I often hang out here in the cool comfort of the basement, just for the calm and serenity; it inspires me, especially when I am constantly seeking creative ideas for the type of work I do.

So I absolutely hate it every time someone moves in. Especially if it's a family with noisy children and dogs. I hate being disturbed. That's when those creative ideas come into play; and I emerge from the dark, shadowy basement...


* * *
I liked it so much better when it was just me and the old caretaker back then.

[Disclaimer: Image not mine.]

Chair Souls

You know how when sometimes you sit in a chair and lean into the backrest, only to leap back up immediately because you thought you felt the backrest wasn't there? 

That's actually the soul of the chair wanting to escape and claim a new host.

[Disclaimer: Image not mine.]

Playtime

I live alone. I'm used to it by now; the peace, quiet and freedom are a nice reprieve from a big family home full of noisy people and pets. Don't get me wrong, I like both. But there are times when you just need a place of your own to get away from it all, and still have the option to go back to visit.

One time, after a night of partying and drinks at the bar, I got home pretty late. It was around 3.00 in the morning. Tired from the night's events, I just wanted to take a quick shower before crawling into bed. So I turned on the shower and let it run for a bit to let the stall steam up nice and hot as usual before going at it; habit of mine, I suppose. Then I entered the shower stall.

After I was done, I turned off the shower, grabbed my towel and was about to step out when I heard it－the high-pitched, ringing laughter of a child, followed by another child, and another child; like they were having fun at the playground below my apartment. They started squealing and giggling so happily and I imagined they were chasing each other around the giant slide. 

Smiling sleepily at that thought, I proceeded to dry myself off as I stepped out of the stall. After getting dressed, I climbed into bed, thankful for the warmth and softness of my pillow.

The next morning, I woke up with a sudden thought－"Why were kids playing downstairs at nearly 4.00 in the morning??" As it was already daylight, that realization didn't quite freak me out as much as it would have the night before.

Until I went to the bathroom to wash up.

There, on the mirror, written in childish handwriting in crayon, were the words, "COME PLAY WITH US TONIGHT."

I immediately searched the 'Classifieds' section on the newspaper for new apartment rentals. Preferably ones that did not have children's playgrounds anywhere nearby.