So I first discovered Stephen King when I read "Salem's Lot" back in college. Summer vacation, Ocean Park, Maine. Beach reading. The most horrific passage I'd ever read, up until that time, as well as since, involved a woman attempting to feed a dead baby. Chocolate pudding. The pudding falls out of the baby's mouth. "Plop". I remember putting the book down, horrified, and thinking "Jesus, who is this guy Stephen King?".
Been a fan ever since. The following summer I read "The Stand" and I swear to god this is true, I was reading the book as we were driving up Route One through Ogunquit, Maine. Meta!
Flash forward many years. I am a Hospice Nurse. Every once in a while, statistically probably one in every hundred patients, there's a death that's really hard to experience. No matter what you do for the patient, let's just say they do not go gentle into that good night.
Sunday night was the one in a hundred. Went home after my shift, went to bed. Had a dream in which I was at a party and met Stephen King. He was wearing a white linen suit. Long story short, I let him get to second base. It was pretty nice.
My point is, I think Stephen King has gotten into my subconscious and has become synonymous, in the deep recesses of my brain, with horrific events. Freud could probably explain the second base part.
Anyway, I'm not a crazy stalker. I don't own a pig named "Misery". I'm not Mr King's "biggest fan". (My name is coincidental LOL!) Just thought I'd share my strange dream.
Been a fan ever since. The following summer I read "The Stand" and I swear to god this is true, I was reading the book as we were driving up Route One through Ogunquit, Maine. Meta!
Flash forward many years. I am a Hospice Nurse. Every once in a while, statistically probably one in every hundred patients, there's a death that's really hard to experience. No matter what you do for the patient, let's just say they do not go gentle into that good night.
Sunday night was the one in a hundred. Went home after my shift, went to bed. Had a dream in which I was at a party and met Stephen King. He was wearing a white linen suit. Long story short, I let him get to second base. It was pretty nice.
My point is, I think Stephen King has gotten into my subconscious and has become synonymous, in the deep recesses of my brain, with horrific events. Freud could probably explain the second base part.
Anyway, I'm not a crazy stalker. I don't own a pig named "Misery". I'm not Mr King's "biggest fan". (My name is coincidental LOL!) Just thought I'd share my strange dream.
