I just got back from driving someone to the self-proclaimed ‘best airport in the world’. Getting there is okay, because you have someone to tokkok with for 45mins to an hour, depending on how fast or how slow you go. Coming back, especially if it is late at night/damn early in the morning is another matter all together.
There aren’t many other cars along the NKVE, not at 2.10 a.m. The road is long, brightly-lit yes (thank macaroni for small favours) but otherwise lonely and very much solitary. Occasionally you pass by a truck or two, otherwise it’s just pressing the gas pedal and zooming according to the speed limit (ahem).
Then you start seeing things in your mind.
You see, I am a highly-imaginative paranoid-er, especially when it comes to scaring myself. As KY would have mentioned, I adore watching scary ghost movies. At the same time I am absolutely terrified of them. This my friends, is what we call ‘asking for it’.
That thing that flutters by the roadside — is that an untied banner or something else? The red stains on the tarred road — red earth spilled by lorries or blood from past gruesome accidents? A knock-knock behind my seat — the usual creakiness or a different entity hitched a ride without permission? Oh shit I ran over a dead cat in the middle of the road. Hmmm… why do I, of all times have to remember specific scenes from the movies ‘The Wig’ and ‘Shutter’…
I had never been happier to see a toll plaza. That means I’m only minutes away from home, that means I can rush back and wash my feet (stupid silly personal superstition of having to wash the feet when I get home after a day/night out due to a different kind of ‘dirt’), that means I can sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!!!!!
But now cannot sleep, so I blog instead.
Hmm.. why do I hear bells outside the house…
HOKAYYYYY STOPPP THINKINGGGGGGGG TOOOOO MUCHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!