I wake up from a long nightmare, a horror one (not a genre I like) involving a spirit and a dead body. The lights are off so the surreal effect of the black and white nightmare continues. On top, the dressing table mirror faces the bed, and the reflection with my newly shampooed hair standing like a lion’s mane creeps me out as soon as I sit up with open eyes. I quickly switch on the light. The shadow this throws on the wall is no better, I look like a yeti. I try to shake off the feeling by…

writing the nightmare down. Perks of a writer – even ghosts reduce to stories

Advertisements