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  <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2009-05-04:276434</id>
  <title>mariness</title>
  <subtitle>The meandering words of Mari Ness</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>mariness</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2010-09-25T18:52:47Z</updated>
  <dw:journal username="mariness" type="personal"/>
  <entry>
    <id>tag:dreamwidth.org,2009-05-04:276434:136085</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://mariness.dreamwidth.org/136085.html"/>
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    <title>Monsters in the wall. Kinda.</title>
    <published>2010-09-25T18:52:47Z</published>
    <updated>2010-09-25T18:52:47Z</updated>
    <category term="monsters"/>
    <dw:security>public</dw:security>
    <dw:reply-count>1</dw:reply-count>
    <content type="html">The wall &lt;em&gt;buzzed&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as those of you who have spent any time with me in the morning are all too sadly familiar, I am…not at my best when I first awake, or am awakened by something else.  &lt;em&gt;Incoherent&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;pretty out of it&lt;/em&gt; are kindly ways to put it; &lt;em&gt;deranged&lt;/em&gt; is another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, by an odd coincidence, I'd just started writing two different short pieces about &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt; in the walls.  (What that &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt; is, I'm not entirely sure in one case. Possibly a chocolate demon. Possibly not.) So I had monsters in the walls on the brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now the wall was &lt;em&gt;buzzing&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;thumping&lt;/em&gt; at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, I assumed it was either a monster or an atomic bomb.  The unlikelihood of an atomic bomb hiding out in the walls of a Florida apartment, quite forgetting about the size issue, was completely lost on me. No, what I was trying to figure out – I wish I were making it up – was how I could defuse the bomb, and, if a monster had made the bomb, what the chances were of the monster setting off the bomb accidentally or otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the Little One leapt into the bed to stare fixedly at the wall.  &lt;em&gt;Oh no,&lt;/em&gt; I thought, he's going to get blown up by the bomb. So I scooped him up and brought him to the living room (which, come to think of it, would not have been particularly far away from a bomb) where we both flopped back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up the second time it took me awhile to figure out where I was, but after Brazil was eliminated (I don't know where that came from) I gradually figured it out, and then remembered the bomb and the monster.  &lt;em&gt;Talk about one annoying nightmare&lt;/em&gt;, I thought, and then headed back into the bedroom to sleep a bit further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wall &lt;em&gt;still buzzed&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, I was less inclined to go with the bomb idea – while not discounting the monster – and more inclined to go with the downstairs neighbors must have been up to something but how, precisely, were they sleeping through this?  I started to investigate. No bombs. No monsters. But a definite &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt; buzzing rhythmically against the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…..a large floor fan in my brother's room, fallen against the wall, but still churning and vibrating on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monsters come in many guises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=mariness&amp;ditemid=136085" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/&gt; comments</content>
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