This weekend I saw the play Ghost Stories. It was, quite frankly, terrifying. I hadn't realised that I'm that much of a wimp. Any play that manages to make the phrase, "Daddy's got meow meow" into the creepiest thing I have ever heard is deserving of commendation. (I want to see it again, since I spent most of the play this time around hiding my face in my friend's shoulder and therefore missed a lot.)

Anyway. One of the ghost stories takes place while someone is driving on a country road late at night.

Today, I visited a friend who lives in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and had to drive back.

Late at night.

In the dark.

On a country road.

Needless to say, I was irrationally terrified and had the lights on main beam nearly the whole way back.

I tried many ways of distracting myself. I spoke out loud. I tried plotting fic. I thought about the next thing I have planned to do in the game I'm playing. Nothing really worked, because the sensory inputs I was receiving were too similar to the play to break the association.

Then I had a brainwave! I would turn on the radio! There wasn't a radio in the play, so a) it was different and b) I could listen to music.

So I reach over and turn on the radio. And from the speakers comes the haunting refrain:

"What's that coming over the hill, is it a monster, is it a monster..."