A section of the textured paper on the ceiling of our lovely Victorian-whorehouse bathroom has recently started to loosen up from the damp, just over the shower stall. Phil has promised to taken time from his Warcraft addiction to fix it, but hasn’t yet…and it’s gotten looser and looser.
Today I was taking a shower, and something caught my eye, directly above me. Movement? The gap underneath the paper was wider, and it looked very dark in there. I tried to concentrate on my shower, hurrying through my shampoo, trying not to think of movies where the girl is helpless, naked and blind in the shower when she is attacked.
The gap is definitely bigger.
I kept thinking of those Japanese horror films where the surreal snakey, dark hair spreads across the ceiling, a la The Grudge. Looked up – no hair. But the gap looked wider. Thought about just ripping the damn thing off, but then I had a Ju-On moment, quick flash of the girl climbing up into the closet to see what the noise in the attic was, and seeing the white face before she’s ripped upwards through the trapdoor. Gah.
If the strip of wallpaper would have come loose entirely, I most likely would have spontaneously levitated for several seconds before falling stone dead of a heart attack.
So, Phil, when you come to bed tonight and realise that I haven’t shaved my legs, you’ll know why. I was too frightened.