Excerpted from A Knife at the Side of the Bed
When I opened the bakery, the focus of my imaginary HorTOEs (Horrific Turn of Events) naturally shifted from my home to my workplace, where I now spent 20 of every 24 hours. By day the bakery with its bright green floors and pipes and walls painted bright primary reds and yellows is a cheerful place, flooded by skylight with natural light. Even the wind rattling the big metal garage doors sounds friendly, the rattling (that can sound so much like tapping) seeming to say “nice breeze out here if you care to join!”
At night, however, it can be creepy, full of dark corners and inexplicable sounds. The big walk in ovens sit silent, and it’s all to easy to imagine someone hiding in them, biding their time….for what, only the HorTOE knows.
The locker room is dark and quiet, and was that a thump from the shower stall, and if it is, do you pull back the curtain to check? No way, says the HorTOE, which remembers that scene from Mrs. Massey’s room at the Overlook Hotel in The Shining. Pulling back that curtain was the last thing little nine year old Danny Torrance should have done. (Apparently the shine can’t stop you from making stupid decisions when you find yourself in a real, live, unanticipated HorTOE)