Magic Lamp

My Grandma just left me alone in the attic with her favorite lamp. She said that I must never touch it. I’m going to be living here for one month. The lamp is on the very edge of a very old table. I am moderately concerned for the safety of said lamp.

Two weeks have gone by. I just tripped over a wrinkle in the carpet. I almost broke the lamp. I guess I’ll have to be more careful.

I made it to my second to last day. The lamp has not been broken.

Oh no. I broke the lamp. It was my last day and I broke it. When I broke it an evil genie came out and killed everybody in the whole town. Everybody dead, even the kittens and squirrels. All my fault. Maybe it was just a dream.

Oh good it was just a dream. I can see that the lamp is still there. Just a dream…

the door in the attic

There is a door in my attic that leads to New Jersey. It sounds stupid, but I swear to God it’s true. I know because I had to spend two-hundred dollars to get back to my home in Toronto. Don’t tell anyone who lives in New Jersey, but I’ve been using it to dump stuff I don’t want. I know that isn’t very nice. I feel bad, really.

I’m selling my house this week.  I don’t know whether to tell the buyers about the door in the attic or not. If I do, they might tell the US government. Or worse, they might find out I’ve been dumping my trash in New Jersey. The US might send me to Guantanamo for terrorism. I guess they’re closing it, but maybe there’s another place they would take me. I don’t have a stomach for interrogation. I can’t even watch violent movies. I don’t think that I’ll tell them.

I just found out that the people I sold the house to are from New Jersey. They don’t know about the door yet. This doesn’t look good. If you find any strange doors in your house, I don’t recommend using them like I did.