Springdale Horror House Afternoon

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By way of preface, I live in a relatively new neighborhood. It abuts an older area behind my house. As a bona fide weirdo myself, I can only say that a couple of the people behind me would be ideal characters in any movie plot involving dysfunctional and possibly homicidal misfits. When I was having internet fiber cable installed, I only had a few seconds to warn the crouched technician as one of the eccentric neighbors made his slurred and erratic approach toward us and the fence line.
“Pretend that the ‘Adams Family’ is real. You’re about to meet all of them rolled into one person,” I told him. The technician quizzically looked up and then over at the approaching person. “Wow” was his description of the encounter afterward. “I’ve seen a lot in my years.”
This afternoon, I went outside to chase a squirrel from my bird feeders. Like most houses with questionable pedigree, the residents of one of the houses behind me strive to let the yard grow wild, possibly in hopes of concealing whatever might go on there. I’m constantly battling the encroachment of the foliage and critters which call it home. Everything about the house indicates that its current trajectory will land it on an episode of “Hoarders” or “Crime Scenes of America.”
While I’m not positive that the sounds originated from the yard in question today, I froze as I stood in my small backyard. Even if I were given 20 guesses, I’m not sure I could have determined the real origin of the squawks and murmurs I heard as I went outside. The overcast sky and rain-filled air didn’t add anything wholesome to the fact that the back of my neck was tingling as I listened.
I went back inside and found my Nikon digital camera in hopes of capturing the unnatural sounds just as much as the visual if anything ran out of the house missing an arm or shouting in an unknown language. While finding a clear space in the overgrown foliage, I noticed something unusual: a 3-foot blue and white bunny rabbit hanging by a rope about 10 feet from the dark porch.
“Oh hell no!” I told myself as I went back inside and pretended it was just a normal day in East Springdale.
I enjoy a good horror movie but choose not to be the guy getting told “Don’t go in there!” by those watching.

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