Friday, November 1, 2019

Pet Sematary


Yesterday was my sixty ninth Halloween. What the hell? In all those years I don't ever remember it snowing on or before October 31st. Sure I remember Halloweens that were cold and Halloweens when it rained. And for twenty seven years in a row, it was in the eighties and humid on Halloween. But that was Florida. I'm talking about my life in Illinois, in Chicago. What the hell? Just a little over a week ago my friend Dennis and I were sitting out in the backyard, in shorts. As of yesterday morning I had flowers blooming in my yard. The last three years we got dozens of kids in costumes banging on our door, begging for candy. Last night, not even one. Not even the ever present, too old teenager, looking for free candy. Instead, Halloween here on Fairfield Avenue was like any other Thursday in December. A snowy, cold movie night. So what was the movie Mark picked out for us to watch? A Stephen King story, Pet Sematary. I hated it. It was a dreary, bad movie. It sucked a lot. In fact, I fast forwarded through much of it because it was so predictable. Yet, son of a bitch if it didn't give me nightmares last night. So I guess it did the job.

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