...ghosts....
Had a rough time sleeping at work so thought I'd bring a book. This time I went for swedish horror.
One night out in gothenburg and I claimed this masterpiece of short horrifying stories. I remembered the old times. Buss rides back and forth. Almost sleeping in parks. Too many cigarettes. Hairspray and dark makeup. Desperation and sweat.
And all I got was this lousy book. Ehm. Kidding. Can't say I miss that sweaty, hairspray sticky time at all.
The book I got from a girl. I think she was one of the "popular" ones of the gang. Not much to add there. I didn't feel part of that group of people at all. Just an observer. Observing. Nah, I'm not denying I did some dumb shit but rolling around in my own piss, I didn't.
Anyhow. The book.
Short stories about all kinds of evil. Scary as shit.
From two o'clock to five I lied there, forcing my eyes shut. Scared and sweaty. "What if there is something in the hallway? I thought I heard something. "
When a breeze of wind touched one of my feet, I thought I'd shit myself.
///Louise
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