Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Razorblade touch

When I was a kid, we used to have an old couch in our house. It was old and pretty tacky.
My mom had gotten it at a garage sale or something. One day we decided to up and out the
couch. It was when I was young but I remembered it.

Anyhow I was talking to my mom and we brought up the old couch and she told me about
something I hadn't remembered for years.

When I was young, maybe four or five I was playing near the couch and a withered black
hand reached out to me holding a crumpled paper bag with an unfamiliar hardware store
logo on it. I was scared shitless and I didn't touch it. After a few seconds the hand
went back under the couch, bag and all.

When I had originally told my mom about the incident she had freaked out and gotten rid
of the couch. It turned out its last owner was an old woman who had died on the couch.
Now is where it gets weirder. I was in town the other day and a grocery store I often
visit I noticed a bag with the same logo that was under the couch. No old shriveled
hand was holding it so I had the balls to open it up and look inside.

It was a bag of razorblades.

No comments:

Post a Comment