Today I am obsessed with a developing story here in my town – about a body found in the backyard of a home in a VERY trendy area. Last night a news bulletin was issued for a “Suspicious Condition” which, understandably, alarmed neighbors as well as other city residents. Today, it was announced the home is owned by a psychiatrist and that the ‘condition’ was the discovery of a body in its backyard. The body has been identified as a young man who has been missing since October.
Let me come out of the closet now and admit to being morbid. I mean VERY morbid. I have been like this for my whole life. I obsess and must find and read every gory detail of every horrific event, but my ‘specialty’ is plane crashes and car wrecks. My family and a few select friends are well-aware of my propensity towards the morbid, but I try to keep this unflattering character flaw under cloak.
Back to the body in the shrink’s backyard. The house is kind of creepy looking and the possibility of additional bodies has also been whispered. Already, the primo local psychiatric hospital has renounced the shrink as having anything but very ‘loose’ connections with their organization. Interesting. So, I am obsessed. As another writer colleague and fellow morbid soul-friend said, she was not going to get much work done today.
Let it be known that I am a writer and here is an interesting fact about my work. I don’t frequently swim in the waters of fiction very often as it intimidates the heck out of me. But mind you, whenever I start to write fiction – (right now I am writing a novel that started out to be Thelma and Louise meets One Flew Over the Cuckoos’ Nest but has quite purposefully morphed into One Flew Over the Cuckoos’ Nest meets Dracula), it goes from funny and light to ghostly and supernatural all by itself!
There is a message here.
Move over, Anne Rice!!