Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I was home alone. My man was in a hotel room 2,000 miles away. I have an old house that makes sounds. Unsettling sounds. Sounds that may cause one to believe that robbers, rapists, and murderers have broken in and are making their way down the creaky wood floor of the hall to the master bedroom. Or worse, that ghosts or other questionably real creatures are preparing to appear in my bedroom to torment me. When I hear a creepy sound, I usually perk up and listen for a second, on high alert, arm hairs standing, muscles tensed. Then I remember that I am a wuss with an overactive imagination and I am able to talk myself into rational calm.

Last night after one such episode, I turned to reach for my book on my "night stand" (which is currently a short stack of large art books by my bed) and saw this looking back at me.


The eyes! They're looking at me! Stop looking at me!

Have you ever looked at a person's eyes upside down? One time as a child, I was playing with my brother in his room downstairs. For some reason, we were lying on the ground. Maybe we had been wrestling. Well, he was lying flat on his back and I was on my hands and knees above him, looking down at his face, upside down. His eyes met mine and suddenly, I was gripped with intense terror. My whole body jumped and I screamed. The sight of his upside down eyes looking into mine was at once so surprisingly terrifying that it seized my body with fear. My scream scared him. One second, we were smiling and laughing, and the second, we were screaming together.

Look at a person's eyes upside down and tell me it doesn't scare you.

There, that's better.

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