Caffeinated Speculation: Have you seen the trailer for “It”?

All right, where are my Stephen King fans? Are you obsessed with his books? Love his movies? If so, this post is for you!

So, this week the brand new trailer for Stephen King’s “It” came out. (You can watch it here, if you’re brave enough!) I have a confession—I probably wouldn’t have even known this movie was coming out if it weren’t for my teenaged girls. See, we happen to be pretty big “Stranger Things” fans. (Like we have a countdown for season 2 in flashing neon lights dead center of our living room. Just kidding! The colors are in glitter, not neon. *winky face*) Anywho…just as any teen likes to do, my girls particularly enjoy following their favorite actors on every form of social media possible. (“Watch this clip of Gaten Matarazzo falling, mom! It’s hilarious!”) Naturally, they know every single detail of every star of the show and regularly tweet to them. (*Mom hides face in palm*) My middle daughter even bought the same ring Millie Bobby Brown wears because, duh! That makes her just like Millie!

I digress. Back to confession: Okay, so the only reason “IT” was on my radar in the first place is because Mike from ST (Finn Wolfhard—And yes, my “middle” also owns the “Finn Wolfhard” T-shirt!) happens to be in “It”! Are you following me? (Phew. I think I need to sit down.) So, my girls have been waiting eagerly for this trailer to come out and this week their heads exploded into a million pieces because it did.

The end.

Okay, maybe not. But they did get super excited and have watched the thing a billion-and-one times already, if that’s a thing. But here’s the sad part—their writer-mama has never even read this book. (*Writer-mama runs and hides in corner*) Yes, yes. I hear you guffawing but really, I like horror just as much as any other girl, but I haven’t read this book. Because, CLOWNS!

Ack! Are you kidding me? I’ve never wanted to read the book—or certainly never see the original movie—because I don’t have a death wish of clowns. But here’s the thing: I think I’m going to read it now. For real! I’m geared up and ready to hit the library today so I can grab me a copy of the SK-man and read up on some scary scary clownage. And the weird part is, I’m sort of excited about it.

This begs the question: Will I be in the theater in September when this baby hits the big screen? Answer: If I can get through the stupid book, then yes. I’d like to see how the movie compares. One thing is for certain, though. I’ll be sitting alone in that overly crowded theater watching Pennywise scare little children because neither of my girls will be with me. They’ve watched the trailer a hundred times but have already said they’re too afraid to see the movie. Because, ya know…

CLOWNS.

What about you? Have you read the book? Seen the original? Plan to the see new installment? What are you thoughts on this classic horror novel and where is your excitement level in this whole thing? Feel free to share below! I’d love to find someone who’s just as scared of clowns as I am!

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Freaking scary poster for the freaking scary movie.

Flash Fiction Friday: A Cry in the Night

The baby was crying again.

Sarah rolled over with a groan. Her husband, Tom, was gone from bed. Probably getting a midnight snack. With a yawn, she got up and padded down the hall.

She peeked into the nursery. A figure stood over the crib and the baby cooed happily. Tom had gotten him. Good. 

Sarah climbed back into her bed. Tom exited their adjoining bathroom with a stretch.

“You were in the bathroom?” she said, her brow pulled tight.

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

“Then who’s in–”

A chill ran down Sarah’s spine. The baby had fallen silent.

 

©Laura L. Zimmerman 2017

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Photo credit Unsplash by freestocks.org

Flash Fiction Friday: The Music Room

“That’s the last of them.” Dylan wiped sweat from his brow as he fell into a chair.

The new Music Room overflowed with boxes, just like the rest of the historic building that would hold the fifty-two students from the extraordinarily small Dunbath Private School. His sixth-grade class had volunteered to help with the move.

“I heard this place was a plantation back during the Civil War,” Maggie said, popping open one of the boxes to peer inside.

Dylan nodded. “Yeah. Some rich guy owned it, had slaves and everything. Until slavery was abolished, anyway.”

“One little slave girl never left.” Maggie bit her lip to keep her smile hidden.

“Huh? What d’ya mean?” Dylan squinted his eyes and straightened up.

“Oh, just a rumor that she drowned in the pond out back. I heard her ghost tried to communicate with the family here.”

Dylan frowned. “Stop it, Maggie. You’re just trying to scare me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She gave him a wink and turned to leave.

A sound stopped them. Music, electronic and muffled, came from one of the boxes in the corner. Maggie gasped.

“What the…?” Dylan said, as he pushed boxes aside.

They worked together and were finally able to find the right one. Dylan flipped open the lid and peered in. The sound grew louder. Inside, the box was filled with small electronic keyboards meant for young children.

At the very bottom, a keyboard was in the ‘on’ position and played a pre-recorded melody.

Maggie’s eyes grew wide. “Ummm….”

Dylan turned the keyboard off, plunging the room into silence. “I think we know where she is.”

Then the music started to play again.

 

©Laura L. Zimmerman 2017

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Photo Credit Pixabay

Flash Fiction Friday: Darla’s Friends

“More tea, Angelica?”

Darla’s missing two front teeth made her smile appear bigger than normal.

“And how about you, Mr. Snuffles? More biscuits?”

The girl leaned forward to serve, but knocked the pitcher of juice into Mr. Snuffles bowl.

“Oh dear! Sorry about that!”

She scurried over.

The door opened. “Darla?” Her mom glanced at the empty chairs around the table. “Tea with your imaginary friends?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Be good.” Then she left.

“Angelica, would you shut the door please?”

Darla watched as the door closed by itself.

She smiled. Darla’s friends were special.

Just like her.

 

©Laura L. Zimmerman 2016

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Photo credit Pixabay