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#exorcism
I was too young to know what exorcism was, or even what was normal. The frantic squeak of wood on wood as the rockers tipped back and forth, the manic click of knitting needles, the ruby eyes... and then at teatime, she served fairy cakes, just like any other grandma.
The interpretation of Danse Macabre as ballet was astounding. The audience was enraptured by the agile skeletons, so convincing in their role. But the applause stopped when, escorted by bony hands through a darkened exit to open graves, they became part of the piece.
#erinaceous
'Derek's completely spineless,' she'd tell them over coffee.
'And you're spiky,' I'd whisper behind the door.
Who's brave now?
My erinaceous tattoo was painful, but I love irony.
Spineless indeed. I think she was trying to retract that statement from beneath the pillow.
#even and #skull
He wasn't even careful any more. In fact, he'd often pluck out a strand and leave it at the scene.
You see, under that fine head of hair, nature had intended a skull that was baby-bald, but after the transplant, it was fun to leave someone else's DNA.
#exuberantly
While Mary knitted, Benny ran in circles, yapping exuberantly. He stood panting on the rug, then urinated over Mary's cheeseplant.
As he pawed at her knee, it suddenly struck her... She'd accidentally used Winalot in her husband's chicken pie.