Tag Archives: horror

The End of 56

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Finally Friday! And the last day of age 56 for me. I don’t know what 57 holds in store, but it dang well had better be an improvement over 56, let me tell you. I’ll save any rehashing and revisiting for the Holidailies year-end recap (and probably cry when I write it), but let’s just say that I have some major goals for what I want to achieve over the next year. Some of them will have to wait until the 2024 because I’m traveling a lot in November and early December, and then there are the holidays, but I do think my life will look very different by the time I’m 58. Hey, I may look very different by this time next year. Happier, for one thing.

Also, not for nothing, as of 11:21 a.m. tomorrow I will have outlived everyone on my father’s side of the family except my father, who was 78 when he died. Bad tickers killed ’em all by 57, and I seem to have inherited the gene for that. Whee! However, he lived a normal lifespan by staying active, managing his blood pressure, watching his weight, not smoking, etc., and I intend to do the same. But just to be on the safe side, I’m not crossing any streets or putting any forks in any sockets this evening.

Maybe I shouldn’t watch anything with jump-scares tonight, either, heh. Gotta say, I was more impressed than I thought I would be with the Exorcist prequel. Well, one of the Exorcist prequels. There are two, the same story told by two different directors. The one I watched last night was Exorcist: The Beginning. It got lousy reviews, but it creeped me out and the underground church was absolutely stunning in its horrific beauty so I’ll call it a win. I may try to find the other prequel, Dominion: Prequel to the Exorcist, just to compare the two.

And now for a little vampire haiku…

A white rose with blood drops.
Image: Pixabay

Pareidolia

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So I tried those laundry detergent sheets yesterday, the ones that dissolve in the wash so that you don’t have to buy large plastic containers of detergent that is mostly water. They’re great, but there is one small problem: When they’re done doing their clothes-cleaning duty, they need to let go of the washer tub and go to the light.

Pareidolia is a brain phenomenon by which you see faces or patterns in things that are not really faces or patterns. Still, this gave me a start, boy howdy. Gives new meaning to the term “ghosts in the machine.”

My Three

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Three roses.
Image: Peakpx

Once in a while I’ll turn to a writing prompt to give me a nudge when I’m blocked, and today I went to writing.com. The prompt that came up was “Write about the number 3.”

For Christians, 3 is a holy number, one that represents the trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit/Ghost.

For writers, public speakers, comedians, and psychologists, there is a Rule of Three: Humans recognize patterns and the smallest pattern they recognize is a pattern of three, so giving them ideas in threes is interesting to them and easy for them to remember.

Johnny Depp’s lucky number is 3, and he has it tattooed on his hand. I read somewhere that it represents how a man and a woman make a child so that there are three, and that he believes three is a magical number, though I don’t know how true any of that is.

Years ago, Peter Criss wore a 3 on the back of his KISS outfit to signify that he was the third member of the band. As he was the third member to join, that makes sense, but again, I don’t know how true that is.

Then there’s the ol’ ménage à trois, the sexual threesome, which may or may not be followed by a love triangle.

Three is special for me for another reason. It’s the number of fangs I have. In addition to the usual two big canines, I have one that descends from the roof of my mouth just behind my two front teeth, right before I’m about to feed. It’s annoying at times, but it does help me drain my vessels faster than others of my kind—something that comes in handy when you’re at risk of being seen. Perhaps it’s evolution.