It started off as an ordinary day... I went to work, came home as usual, mowed the lawn... and then the sun went down, and I drifted off for a nap. When I awoke, things were no longer as they had been...
First, I went out to the car to bring in some things I needed to pack for my upcoming trip. But halfway there I stopped - the whole neighborhood was quiet, and suffused with a cold blue light. I looked up at the moon. It was full, and bright, and broken clouds were drifting slowly across its baleful face. I retrieved my camera from the car and steadied it on the roof, and zoomed in as far as it would go. As I made adjustments to the exposure and color, trying to capture this unearthly sight, the moon's visage seemed to change; like a face it was, turning left and right, considering me from all angles. I shivered, and stole back inside to the warmth and lingering adhesive fumes.
But my ordeal was only half over. Upstairs, in my study, I searched in vain for an old volume I intended to revisit. It struck me that it must be among the books I had crated and taken to the attic, to make room on the shelves for my faraway love. I took lantern in hand and pulled down the creaky attic stairs, with much screeching and pinging, and ascended into the dark, peaked cavern above.
In the weak glare of the sole naked bulb I squinted into the corners. There is dusty flotsam up there that was not mine, but here when I moved in; an small old bed, packages of tile, the old cupboard doors. Ah, there were the boxes of books I sought. I moved to retrieve them and then I saw it...
AAAAIIIIGHHHH!!!
The original chandelier from downstairs! I thought the most horrid of the the decor was still on the walls and floors of this old house, but the most hideous perversion was lurking up here all along! It's a heavy wooden hexagon, with fake bronze straps at the corners - and plastic candles, with sockets for electric bulbs; no doubt, the kind that look like a frozen glass flame. This abomination must have once hung as you see it here, from its nightmarish fake-bronze chains, in the master dining room. I picked it up gingerly, as one might lift a thousand-year-old mummy to nick his wallet, and hung it on a nail to document it.
Anyway, if anyone out there is shooting a low-budget Gothic horror film, and you need lighting for the dining hall - where the fiend entertains his unsuspecting guests, before dragging them to the basement for unspeakable tortures - I have just the thing for you. It looks to be regular 120V, and you'll want to brace it to the nearest stud or joist - it's heavy!
