The last thing I read last night before dropping off to sleep was 'Saga of the Swamp Thing'
I was half-awakened at four a.m. by a rustling noise, something tugging at the duvet. In my semi-conscious (but, let's face it, mostly asleep) state, I was convinced it was the Monkey King in my room.
I froze and after a moment or two, the noises stopped. I relaxed a bit, turned over. The rustling noise got louder, the drag pulled once – then disappeared. There was fffffing noise as something hit the carpet. My heart was pounding and it woke me properly up…
…Whereupon I discovered the blanket that had been on top of the duvet had been slowly sliding off the bed for the last five minutes, friction from it pulling at the duvet cover as well, and there is, of course, no such thing as the goddamn Monkey King.
Stupid overactive imagination.
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