Monsters Are Literal

"Why the hell do I have to read this crap!" I talk to myself a lot and having to read nonsense words made up by an obviously demented soul that died hundreds of years ago brought out the worst. "This is NOT what I wanted for this weekend!"

The CRACK when I slammed Shakespeare shut on Macbeth startled me. "Carley didn't like it either" . . . damn, she was pissed . . . why did Barrows have to assign the essay and test for THIS Monday? . . .

Visions of Carley doing what she'd promised for this weekend danced in my mind making it worse and, "DAMN IT," while kicking the table across the room making a very loud SKREEECHH! irritated me even more.

"Why can't some Lovecraftian monster eat the entire essay, the book and prof WheelBarrow?"

...scritttccchhhh... snapped my head around and . . . that damned rat . . . I remembered the rat we'd had trouble with. It took two weeks to catch and get rid of . . . another? . . . and now it's relatives show up.

My chair rolls and my foot slamming the door always drove it away. No repeat of the sound so I returned to, "WHEEL BARROWS LOST WHEEL!" report. Lame, but funny at the time.

...scritttccchhhh... brought me back to reality. With a baseball bat I headed for the door.

...scritttccchhhh... I yanked the door open screaming, "I'm going to bash your head in when I catch yo..." just before seeing the gaping cave of tooth-filled mouth and thinking . . . Lovecraftian monster will eat entire essay . . . half still in my head . . . professor Barrows in for a BIG surprise . . . sorry Carley . . . no test tomorrow . . . what a stupid last thought tha...

CRRUUNNNCH