What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?
Scared? Who me. Never, not usually, perhaps sometimes, just now and again.
You go to the hobby room in the cellar to fetch a torch because there is a power cut and all spare lights and torches are kept in this room. Your are alone and you see nothing. On top of this you have locked the door behind you as you never know if there are others wanting to intrude on your private sphere (the doubts of a human mind) and you drop the key. The scene is set for a fright night, especially when this group of strange individuals are watcing every move you make.
Of course I am not frightened, I put these various models in the hobby room for the Winter. They generally occupy my garden in the summer months, but have a weak chance of survival in the snow and ice. Now they are comfortable, and I am locked in with them all, in the dark. I have my iPhone with me and I call Mr. Swiss.
“Help, I have locked myself in the hobby room in the cellar and dropped the key on the floor and cannot find it because it is dark.”
No answer! There is no reception for my super iPhone in this room. There is a window, but just large enough for perhaps a cat to squeeze through. Unfortunately Tabby, my cat, was still in my safe apartment sleeping somewhere and was no aware of the drama in the cellar. It was approaching the twilight hours. Mr. Swiss was watching the TV and probably fallen asleep in his stressless armchair. I decided to make the most of it. There is a settee in this room, and after moving the cymbal and large bass drum from the surface (yes, Mr. Swiss keeps various drumming appliances in this room) I lay down and hope for the best.
Unfortunately the water system belonging to all the apartments seem to congregate in this room, gallons of water flowing through the pipes. Despite the continuous glugging sounds I begin to drift into sleep. It was a very narrow settee and so I had to turn. It was then something pricked my arm, a long metal claw.
“Do you mind” squeaked a voice “this is my place, be careful”.
I opened my eyes and was looking into stalked eyes of a metal green frog with a crown. It was then I felt something pushing against my legs.
“What are you doing here, this is our place.”
Yes the meerkat had snuggled into my back. These objects that were usually lifeless, but seemed to have regained a life in this cellar room. They were all crawling over my body searching for a comfortable place. I was startled, alarmed, struck with a fear of the sinister unknown. At this moment the room was flooded with a blinding light.
“What are you doing here on the settee? I thought you were going quickly to the cellar to fetch a torch because we had a power cut. The power cut is now over, the electricity is in working order.”
It was Mr. Swiss to the rescue. Of course, I had come to the hobby room to get a torch, but was disracted by something that squeaks in the dark. Just a figment of my imagination of course. I took a last look at my garden figures before I left the hobby room. They were all sitting on the table in their correct place, but what was that goblin like figure with the pointed hat. I had put it in the cellar. How did it arrive in the hobby room.
No, I was imagining this and why should inanimate objects be able to move over such great distances. As I entered the safety of my apartment I glanced at my watch. It was now midnight on 31st October.