Picture this: a quadriplegic in a house with the power off. No lights. A strange sound coming from the basement. Try to call the neighbors, but the landlines are dead. Cell phone getting lower and lower as I try to reach someone.
Welcome to my world last weekend when the Nor'easter hit.
I like horror movies. I'm the one checking out alternate plot lines when this kind of thing happens. So I wasn't scared. I was- concerned, mostly about the strange sounds, which turned out to be a battery backup alarm. But I didn't know that and crawling into the basement isn't possible for me physically, although I'm sure in a horror movie that little detail would have been tossed out of the window. The quadriplegic would have dramatically and slowly and painstakingly gone down those steps and then been trapped down there. Bwa ha ha.
No, in my world I duct taped a flashlight on and went to the front porch waving it at the few passerbys who were out in the dark streets. No one responded, probably having watched horror movies themselves about entering dark houses. So I came back inside and someone called back and came over to check out the basement.
Anticlimatic, I know. I had none of the fun that Jamie Lee Curtis had in Halloween, although the setting was right.
Now all I hear is the sound of damaged trees being cut down. Hmm, chain saws. Didn't I see a movie where-never mind.
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