Those Monsters
20110427 @ Wednesday, April 27, 2011
When  I was a kid, to overcome my fear of the dark, I would countdown from 30  starting the moment I turned out the lights. This involved making a  blind dash across a room lit only by cracked-door hallway-light leakage  and whatever might have been illuminating out in the front yard; a six  sided Victorian-style glass lamp perhaps, or cars turning slowly into my  neighborhood pushing light-bands of ghosts at odd speeds and angles  over my plaid wallpaper and posters of hair bands Poison, Motley Crüe,  and Cindy Crawford. 
I  would leap onto the bed to prevent any monster that may live under it  from attacking my ankles. Once in the bed with plaid sheets to match the  wallpaper, I would grab my stuffed duck and we would quickly bury  ourselves in the cool fabric. As I neared zero in the countdown I would  steady my breathing and prepare to be invisible. I would do this by  commanding the universe to alter my molecular structure like some kind  of X-Man. With two simple words I would say, “Flat. Blend.” And voila I  would be reduced to the height of that which I was resting on, in this  case, the brown plaid sheets, and like a chameleon my skin and clothing  would camouflage itself with the pattern; almost like a color-changing  lizard version of Flat Stanley. I would repeat this exercise every  night. I had to. Always without missing a beat, as soon as I reached  Zero, a crime-boss-man of some kind would enter my room and search the  area looking to capture any living organism he found in the space. If I  opened my eyes, my 2-dimensional blend-o-being-ness-spell would be  broken and I’d be taken away. I couldn’t let that happen. I had a very  alive stuffed duck to protect. 
Eventually,  the hit-man would look the other way and I’d be able to slide out of  the sheets to catch some fresh air, with eyes closed of course. 
-The illustrations were from Benroy. He's perasaning. so yah.
